


All's Fair in Love, Lies, and Family

by DestinyFreeReally



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-10-04 20:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 47,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10289006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: Continuation of Love, War, and Murder. A twist on the main conflicts of S2, obviously some more differences based on the last fic. LoVe's gotta deal with life in Neptune never being what it really seems, and Veronica's mission to expose truth comes at greater cost to her than ever.





	1. Chapter 1

“I _think_ it’s a left up that way past the exit,” Drumming his fingers over his knee, Logan was about to pray to any deity that was still listening to him for the next bar to be the place where Lianne Mars was. Three days into taking Arizona by storm, Veronica’s mouth had gone stiff with disappointment and Logan’s back was starting to cramp up from the lebaron. After hearing from the Neptune High rumor mill that Lianne Mars had taken off, Logan remembered every quip he’d made to make things harder on Veronica. While taking them back now isn’t really an option, spending his days switching off driving with her hardly seemed like apt penance when he was having so much fun.   
  
    Tracking Lianne’s car’s plates to the Phoenix area had been easy, but Veronica hadn’t realized how many dive bars lined the highway on the outskirts of Phoenix. Or how many middle aged blondes slept in their cars.   
  
     _Roarin’ Ripley’s,_ the next dive on Veronica’s list, had a flashing neon sign just ahead of them, and she isn’t getting her hopes up, but there’s the possibility that this is where her mom is. Every time they’ve pulled up to a possible Lianne sighting, Veronica tried to think of something she wanted to say to her mother, tried to explain, even to herself, why she was here in the first place. But Lilly’s killer had been found, had been put in jail, and the case was over, and it hadn’t fixed everything, yet. _That’s all you got, Veronica? Staggering irrationality and a severe case of ‘I want my mommy?’_ Shaking her head, Veronica parked and cleared that thought, looking to Logan with a weak smile.   
  
    He’d never been on a road trip, that much was clear to Veronica. Not a road trip _Mars-style,_ anyway. The almost-liminal spaces of western rest-stops, the endless supply of junk food, and of course, trying to find a new radio station every time they passed through a city, made his eyes wider and delighted every time. She likes it, sure, the empty space of the desert stretched out in front of her, and Logan’s hand brushing her knee every so often. But every time she pulled up to a new bar, she was even more relieved that he came.   
  
    “Ready?” He smiled tight, and gave her hand a squeeze, for luck or _something_ .   
  
    “I don’t see her car…” Veronica looked around, bracing herself for disappointment. It was only 2 pm, and the parking lot wasn’t full by any means. “I’m ready.” Feeling for the picture of her mom in her pocket, Veronica took a deep breath, and followed Logan out of the car.   
  
     _Roarin’ Ripley’s_ was hardly roaring at 2 pm on a Tuesday, going into the bar Veronica only spotted about five customers and a few bartenders; it didn’t even look like anyone doing security was there yet.   
  
  “Hi, excuse me, have you seen _this_ woman recently?” Passing the photo to the bartender, Veronica eyed the bar for any blondes, with Logan just behind her.   
  
    With a second for recognition, the bartender pointed to a table behind them, and frowned. Spinning on her heel, Veronica braced herself against Logan, and then took off for the corner booth where Lianne was.   
  
     _“Mom?”_ Veronica gasped, and realized how _little_  the woman huddled over her drink looked like the woman in the photograph, but it was definitely her mother. Her mother who’d been drunk for probably months, sleeping in her car and crashing on friends’ couches, looked so little like her mother who’d tucked her in before bed years ago, and made her breakfast in the morning. _“Mom?”_ Ignoring tears in her eyes, Veronica tried to get her mom’s attention, to get her eyes to focus on her only.   
  
    “Veronica?”   
  
    “Mom!” Hugging her finally, after months, Veronica realized why she hadn’t been able to come up with anything to say; she hadn’t been looking for her mom to say anything to her, she’d just wanted to hug her, just wanted to see her. “We’ve been _looking_ for you, Mom, you haveta come home. I need you - _Dad_ needs you, things are better now, things are okay,” Pressing her face into her mom’s shoulder, Veronica could smell the stink of her mother’s alcoholism and _knew_ things were far from okay.   
  
    Taking the seat across the booth, Logan moved Lianne’s glass of - scotch? - away, and watched Lianne’s eyes follow it across the table, even as Veronica had barely eased her grip.   
  
    “You shouldn’t be here, Veronica, I have to protect you, you have to leave.” Lianne shook her head, “You need to go Veronica, you have to stay away from me.”   
  
    Logan watched Veronica’s face freeze, and then immediately rebound with a fresh set of questions. While it was his first road trip, growing up, Logan had seen the ravages of alcoholism too many times, and Lianne had definitely hit the bottle hard from what he could tell. Her face looked shades grayer than he remembered it, she looked… almost _duller_ , especially in contrast to Veronica.   
  
    “Could we get some coffee over here?” Logan called, and Veronica felt another hint of relief that she wasn’t doing this alone.   
  
    “Mom, what do you mean you need to protect me? I can protect myself, things are gonna be okay, we have to get you sober and cleaned up, and we’ll all be fine.” Voice shaking _fine_ into existence, Veronica couldn’t imagine what Lianne thought she was protecting her from by running away and turning bar hopping into a full time endeavor.   
  
    “It’s my job to protect you, and we can’t be together, Veronica, honey, listen,” Lianne was still trying to focus on Veronica, to keep her daughter in focus… she’d missed her so much, but they _couldn’t_ be together, not now, Veronica had to see that. “You have to go home, to Keith, where it’s safe.”   
  
    “You’re not making any _sense_ ,” Veronica’s voice broke, and she ignored it. “Mom, what are you talking about? Don’t you want to come home? Don’t you _miss us?”_ When Logan reached across the table and touched her hand, Veronica heard the little girl in her own voice. “I just don’t _understand_ . Help me understand, why you left- what you’re _doing_ out here? What you’re doing meeting Jake Kane at the Neptune Grand when you can’t even come see your own daughter or your own husband,” Veronica fought to keep the accusation out of her voice, as Lianne’s hand slapped the lacquer of the bar’s booth table, stunning the three of them into silence.   
  
    “How do you know about that, honey?” Voice gentle, but on the edge, Lianne reclaimed shattered thoughts of things she didn’t even want to say out-loud, let alone to her precious daughter.” You shouldn’t… you were never supposed to be involved in any of this…” Lianne reached across the table for her drink, but Logan withheld it, and instead, held it out to the bus boy who dumped it into his tray and took the empty glass.   
  
    “Involved in _what_ , Mom? Mom, just _tell me_ what all of this is about,” Feeling small again, Veronica wasn’t wired to regret things, to think of her decisions as mistakes, but looking at her mother.. At their situation, and reevaluating her expectations, felt necessary.   
  
    “It’s… very complicated, and so _long_ ago, Veronica, none of that even matters-” Lianne stopped herself and shook her head. “You shouldn’t see me like this, Veronica, I told your father not to look for me- you weren’t supposed-”   
  
   “Well, he didn’t! For _months_ Dad’s been giving you credit you haven’t earned, for leaving us- for leaving me, I _need_ to know why. Why?” Gripping her mother’s hand, Veronica remembered Keith burning the license plate picture, lying to her, and now her mother, drunk in Arizona needing to protect her. She just needed some explanation; she needed somebody to explain themselves.   
  
    Chewing the inside of his mouth, Logan thought about the times he’d found his mother asleep on the couch because she couldn’t make it up the stairs, nights when she came home missing a shoe or her purse. Maybe she’d go to rehab with his dad in jail; maybe she wouldn’t need to drink anymore, Logan thought. Listening to Lianne want to _protect_ her daughter, even like this.. Logan wasn’t sure what to think.   
  
    “I’ll… get you guys some water.” Logan left without meeting Veronica’s eyes, without checking her face for approval. Lianne’s eyes kept darting to him, like he was intruding or watching too closely or if she was just confused as to his presence. Giving them a minute alone felt necessary.   
  
    “Veronica…”   
  
    “Mom, I’m not leaving you here, and I _can’t_ until you just tell me, just _tell me_ what is so bad.” Bracing herself for _what_ , Veronica wasn’t sure even as she did it.   
  
    “Honey...“ Lianne started, lost her train of thought, and then started again. “The Kanes are powerful people, with a lot of reach and people who owe them. It was terrible what happened to Lilly, but I knew Jake and Celeste… I knew they could never… They would never hurt their own daughter.” Lianne stalled, licking her lips. “I know Jake, yes, in a way that you and your father might not approve of but-”   
  
    _“Mom_ ,” Veronica cried, trying to fit pieces of this story in with her mother abandoning her.   
  
    “I missed you so much, baby. So much it hurt, Veronica.” Lianne wrapped an arm over her daughter, wanting to make it all better for her, like when she was small. This wasn’t a monster in her closet though, this was a skeleton. “You have to go now; I _promise_ I’ll call and explain but, no one can find you here, no one can know, baby.” Lianne shook her head.   
  
     _The Kanes are powerful people, with lots of reach and people who owe them,_ Veronica contemplated, eyes gone dry.   
  
    “What do Jake and Celeste _want_ , Mom? They have everything. Aaron’s in jail for killing Lilly, Jake paid a _fine_ for lying during Dad’s investigation what _else_ could they possibly want that’s making you-”   
  
    “ _Veronica!”_ Logan yelled, and caught her attention, just as Clarence Weidman spotted them in the bar.


	2. Quittin' and Roadtrippin'

  
    “Do you _see_ ?” Lianne rushed Veronica out of the booth, and Veronica and Logan took off after Clarence Wiedman, who proceeded to head for the bar’s door.   
  
    “What do the Kanes _want_ with us?” Veronica yelled to no one specifically but  everyone at once.   
  
    Logan recognized Weidman, remembered him from a few late-night trips to Mexico with Lilly where Weidman had foiled their fun and marched them back home. Following Veronica and Clarence out to the parking lot, Logan remembered the fond moments, hours ago, stuffing his face with pork rinds playing the license plate game.   
  
    “Your mother made a deal, Veronica _Mars_ , and she’ll keep it.” Weidman got in his car, and called from the driver’s window back at them.   
  
    “Oh yeah, or _what?"_   Veronica called back, making a note of his license plate as he sped off. Logan ran his hand down her back, and she turned and held his hand for a minute, meeting his eyes. “This is probably gonna get worse before it gets better; we need to get her out of here.” She shook her head.   
  
   “Uh..” Logan pointed to Lianne struggling to get to her car across the parking lot.   
  
   “ _Mom,”_  Veronica’s tone warned that things were probably going to get _rapidly_ worse. “Mom, you need help… this isn’t.. I’m not leaving you here like this.”   
  
    “I want to be better, honey, I want to be there for you, I _know_ I haven’t been.” Bringing her daughter in close, Lianne remembered picking a tiny, stunned Veronica up after she fell off her bike and scraped her knee when she was about six. That’s what moms were supposed to do.   
  
    “Let us help, Mom.” Veronica looked to Logan, standing a few feet away.   
  
  
    Hours later, with a lot of cajoling and wheedling, they’d coaxed Lianne into checking into a nearby clinic, where they’d dry her out and help her deal with her alcohol addiction. It isn’t the easy homecoming Veronica pictured, it isn’t her Mom ready to be a family again, but Lianne’s too drunk and too frazzled to explain much of anything, let alone deal with it all.   
  
    “I’ll… wait for you in the car,” Logan kissed the top of Veronica’s head, letting his lip linger over her brow line as she leaned in, and then excused himself with a nod to Mrs. Mars. The clinic’s a bright-white, everywhere, white walls, white carpets; Logan’s mind brought up something about renewal and freshness, and starting blank.   
  
    “Veronica, how can your father afford this; I can’t…” One last minute of welching, Lianne squirmed in the waiting room of the clinic, but seeing her daughter’s face, dry of tears and hopeful, she recommitted in her head. “I’m gonna do better here, honey.”   
  
    Leaving her mom again, after losing her already, still hurt, even if it stung to admit it. Climbing back into the car, Veronica reached across the console and hugged Logan for a few seconds, and he smoothed her hair down her neck.   
  
    “You did so good,” He whispered down to her, mind still reeling from whatever Lianne thought she had to protect Veronica from. From where Logan’s sitting, Veronica’s been protecting herself, from bullies, from terror, from actual murderers; he hugged her tighter before she took a deep breath and pulled back.   
  
    “I’m thinking…. True American classics, diner for burgers and then a shitty motel you’ll be embarrassed to tell your friends you ever slept in?” She winked, and pushed Lianne’s problems away, if only for tonight. Metaphorically tucking her responsible daughter badge away for the night, mentally Veronica promised to call her dad when they stopped for the night. In a hurry to put sordid tragedy and trial behind them, Keith acquiesced to her driving down to the beach with “a group of friends,” for spring break. Eyeing the desert road, with her mom in a rehab facility and a thousand new questions, Veronica couldn’t help but bite her lip and wonder what her dad would think of her actual spring break. Desperately, she wanted to be the normal, happy kid he wanted to her to be; and for the first time in awhile things were actually looking up. _Mom in rehab counts as a step up from her missing in action and drunk, right?_ Veronica shook her head; even in the wake of Lilly’s solved murder, things stayed complicated.   
  
    “Eek, look at these digs.” Puke green carpeting, and time-stained orange wall paper; Logan knew his mom could rattle off a dozen designers who would sooner bulldoze this place than step foot in it. Following Veronica into the room and throwing down their bags, Logan flopped on the hard spring mattress and _really_ how did every cheap hotel have the same incredibly uncomfortable mattress. “You know my mom gave us money exactly so we wouldn’t…” Logan waved his hand around the dimly lit room.   
  
   “Your mom gave _you_ money, and we’re splitting this trip, so,” Veronica mimicked his hand gesture to the small room, “This is it, dude.” Huffing a breath, and flopping down on the bed next to him, Veronica added in a small voice, “Besides, I gave my mom almost $15k for her clinic stay, you’re lucky I didn’t haveta stay in that diner and do the dishes to work off my half of dinner.” She laughed bitterly, and leaned her cheek against his side. “I have no idea what _deal_ she would’ve made with Jake and Celeste.” She admitted. Once upon a time, a young Veronica doodled Mrs. Duncan Kane in the margins of her notebook, but now the notion that she should owe the Kanes anything made her skin crawl.   
  
    “Hey, maybe it’s nothing.” Logan elbowed her a little, nudging her into a laugh, even if it rang a little cynical. Even if nothing had been _nothing_ in their lives for years, especially in Neptune.   
  
    Rolling over to lay across his chest, Veronica folded her arms under her chin on top of him, and smiled. His arms crossed over her back, and he tapped a rhythm against the pockets of her jeans.   
  
   “Are you ready for the six hour drive home tomorrow? Back to your thousand-count-thread sheets and food not smothered in grease?” She teased.   
  
    “I _saw_ you take down that burger, remember? That did not look like someone afraid of a little grease in her food,” He teased back, and it’s an easy moment; even if nothing is _nothing_ for them. “And 1200-thread-count; haven’t you heard, my mother has impeccable interior taste.”   
  
   Tucking her chin against her forearm Veronica thought about her Mom, maybe seeing a counselor or a doctor, maybe thinking straight for the first time in months.   
  
    “How did Clarence Weidman know where we were going? _We_ didn’t even know where we were going.” She leaned up on his chest, and looked down at his smile. “What?”   
  
   “I like you going after a bad guy that isn’t me,” He brought her face down to kiss her cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. “So how would you have followed us?”   
  
   Veronica’s chin dropped, but she laughed, taking a second to think about it.   
  
  “I’m forwarding my calls to a burner cell, so…. Your phone?” Popping the back off of his cell and taking the battery out was easy, figuring out what else Weidman knew was going to be difficult.


	3. Long Way Home Again

  
    Veronica shook herself awake, still tired, but her neck was twisted uncomfortably in the passenger’s seat.  
  
    “You were sort of talking again,” Logan teased, brushing her knee from across the console. _Something about the wolves taking over,_ he thought, but kept it to himself. Her mumbling was cute, even if it scared him the first time.  
  
    Digital clock blinking 3:05, Veronica groaned as she stretched.  
  
    “Where are we?”  
  
    “She asks, forgetting her navigational duties; we could be halfway to Vegas by now-” He grinned. “Nah, I remembered our turn-offs, we’re almost home, I was gonna wake you up soon anyway, we’re poised for landing very shortly, Ms. Mars.” Hours of silence only disturbed by the tires rubbing the road and her occasional mumbles about the wolves, Logan had infinitely fiddled with the radio until he had to finally concede that the license plate game just wasn’t something that was too much fun alone. “Also your dad’s been calling- I thought maybe I should get it, but self-preservation won out. He still has a gun, right?”  
  
    The few times Logan encountered Keith Mars, while not entirely tense, could hardly be considered cozy. There was probably a statistic Logan had to willfully ignore, about children of abuse who perpetuate a new cycle, or genetic markers of murderers he wanted to blame Keith for fearing- but gripping the steering wheel, looking to a barely-awake Veronica, he smiled at her and understood, a little. Punching that news guy hadn’t exactly been a one-off, if he was being completely honest with himself, anyway. And maybe Keith would hate any guy who liked spending significant time within a two-foot radius of his daughter.  
  
    “Two actually. The burner cell was so that _he_ wouldn’t track us,” Veronica admitted, shamefully. She doesn’t think her dad’s ever used the GPS in her cell for that, but covering her tracks only seemed responsible, especially in the wake of running into Weidman. She grit her teeth. Lying to her father was occasionally an occupational hazard of, well- working for her father- and she wasn’t sure she could fight with him about her mom, again.  
  
    Shoulder-to-shoulder, for months, they’d stood in the rubble of their old life together, he’d stayed where her mother ran- but he’d always pushed Veronica to look past the betrayal and see the nuance in her mother’s actions. “I… feel bad lying to him about this, but,” Giving her mom her college savings had been hard enough; knowing her dad would’ve hated it felt even more unsettling. “I don’t know what he’d say about us, you know- spring-break road tripping his wife to rehab. And I can’t imagine him being a part of that _deal_ with the Kanes.” Veronica held back a wince, looking at Logan. “Have you… talked to... _him_ at all?”  
  
    Coming into view was the start of their edge of the PCH, almost home.  
  
    “Mr. High-and-mighty himself?” Logan’s tone paired with an uneasy smirk, and stealing another glance at her, maybe he could understand Duncan, too. Running his right hand along hers, with his left hand on the steering wheel, he can’t imagine not feeling this way about her- not wanting to, even. So maybe that was Duncan’s problem but maybe it wasn’t, he thought, running his thumb along the bumps of her knuckles. “I haven’t. He’s been mad at me before…” Logan considered, and smiled thinking about how many of those petty disagreements had actually centered around a certain blonde.  
  
    “Wait, slow down,” Veronica’s fingers covered his in an instant, gripping loosely as he slowed the car down for her to inspect a traffic stop on their right. “California plate _PKT2152…_ ” Veronica clicked her tongue. “Imagine that, Clarence Weidman...stopped by the local police.” Waving her fingers casually at Weidman as they passed, Veronica didn’t let herself smile at his steely, disgruntled frown. “Some anonymous tipster must’ve called in about the reckless driving and the empty beer cans they thought they saw in the backseat,” Feigned confusion in her voice, with an exaggerated shrug, Veronica dropped her hands back over Logan’s, holding his hand against her thigh.  
  
    “Did you…” Logan looked to her, looked at Weidman in the rearview mirror, and laughed, shaking his head. Months of popping her tires, breaking her headlights… Suddenly, the bong incident looked like she’d gone easy on him.  “Remind me not to forget your birthday.”  
  
    “Or follow me across state lines,” She added, as Neptune’s familiarity eased her into a small smile.  
  
    “Or that.” Logan gave a half-nod.  
  
    Leaving Logan at his house, after approximately 5,000 goodbye kisses, and another 5,000 _for-real-she-had-to-go-and-wasn’t-he-sick-of-her-yet_ goodbye kisses, Veronica knew exactly what she had to do when she got home. Hello kisses for her dog, and then straight to the back of her dad’s closet; in an unmarked cardboard box, the Lianne Mars essentials that her mom had left and her dad hadn’t gotten rid of. An odd assortment of knick-knacks, random fragments from a strangely-gone life, and Veronica huffed a breath of disappointment. It’s not like she expected to find an envelope labelled _Contract with the Kanes_ in treacherous gold ink or anything, but a _hint_ . A _clue._ Ironically enough, maybe Weidman had done her favor; without seeing him in Arizona, Veronica might’ve chalked her mother’s speech about the Kanes up to months of alcoholism and isolation. But _her mother made a deal_ , and validation had come from a source almost as good as the devil that deal was with.  
  
    At the bottom of the cardboard box, Veronica found a framed picture of her family; mom, dad, and only child, taken in front of their old house- years before they’d moved, years before Lilly died, her dad was still in his Sheriff’s uniform. Taped to the underside of the frame, Veronica’s finger caught on something; a small, silver key. The kind you keep for a safety deposit box. Far from a contract in gold ink, but in her palm she held a clue, one she was ready to chase down before her mother could come home.  
  
    When their apartment door opened and closed with it’s squeak and click, Veronica couldn’t help but hug her dad an extra-long hello. Both of her parents may have loved her, she conceded that, but only one had stayed when it counted most.  
  
    “Home, already? Not to get mushy, but Back Up _really_ missed you, honey.” It’s easy relief; Keith’s arrested spring-breakers before- kids causing property damage, underage drinking, general high-risk behavior. She was home safe, had supposedly socialized with her peers, and now they could spend the rest of her break together, maybe even doing normal father-daughter stuff, and save pinning down Neptune’s shady underbelly for another day.  
  
    “Really? Cause he said you were inconsolable.” Veronica smiled.  
  
   “Me? No, I… I barely knew you were gone, actually.” Keith winked. “What do you say to some lasagna and ice cream?”  
  
    Pressing the safety deposit box key into her palm, Veronica was slow to beam.  
  
    “Sounds great, Dad. Sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is moving kind of slow, but we're on our way. thanks for checking this out!


	4. Category-2 Something

“Hi,” Veronica dampened her expression, lowered her eyes… “My mother’s just passed away, and I found this safety deposit key in some of her old things; Lianne Mars? Here’s the death certificate and the key.” She slid them through the small slot at the bottom of the bank teller’s window, and when the teller averted her eyes with pity, Veronica knew she was golden. Close inspection of the forged certificate wouldn’t hold up for too long, but a passing glance and a large helping of secondhand grief? It was a good thing this PI gig was working out, Veronica smoothed gloss between her lips, the Neptune criminal element probably wasn’t ready for her kind of competition.    
  
    Once she was handed the box, and shown a booth where she’d have privacy, Veronica took a breath before opening it. Before opening it to find… pictures of herself, definitely not self-portraits; surveillance photos, featuring her long, blonde hair of yesteryear, and the added touch of a crosshair over her face. If Veronica had to guess, judging by her lack of armed, round-the-clock security detail, her father had never seen these.    
  
    “And he won’t,” She flipped through the pictures; even long-haired Veronica would’ve noticed someone following her. These had to be taken from a great distance, shot with an expertise and dare she think it, just a little bit of an artistic flair; someone had enjoyed watching her go about her days, on more than one occasion. Stopping on an old picture of her and Lilly at the mall, whipped-half-shot-mochachino-lattes in hand, Veronica shook her head for a second. And then realized with a sick, sinking feeling that Clarence Weidman tailing her to Arizona hadn’t been the first time he’d followed her. The pictures were years old, and threatening; implication clear enough, even if the motive was perplexing. The Kanes, or at least Clarence Weidman, had followed her before, sent these pictures to her mother…    
  
    Tucking the photos under her arm, along with the forged death certificate, Veronica’s mind reeled. A little digging into Clarence Weidman, both personally and professionally, had revealed little information. Which, of course, meant something in itself. Clarence Weidman had made a career out of shade and innuendo, all in the name of Kane.   
  
_ And what do shadows hate more than anything?  _ Veronica thought, and couldn’t help but smooth the gloss between her lips again.  _ Being brought into the light.  _ Once, he’d put a crosshair over her face, but now Veronica felt much more comfortable with Clarence Weidman in her sights.    
  


* * *

  
  
    “So?” Wallace half-chased Veronica down the empty hall, “How was your… _spring break_.” He blinked rapidly, meaning clear. They didn’t have to get all Sex-in-the-City special, but they were definitely going to have to talk about a roadtrip with Logan Echolls.   
  
    “Mmm… just the highlights? I checked my mom into a rehab clinic, _oh_ , and I found out I have a stalker.” Clicking her locker closed, Veronica kept her tone jovial. Well, as jovial as she could on the first day back after spring break.   
  
    Wallace took a second to blink, before rebounding. “V, I told you, Logan’s not a stalker, he thinks he’s your boyfriend,” Side-stepping her consequent swat on his arm, they both laughed.   
  
   “Not Logan.” Veronica glanced around them, out of habit or just because her pictures framed as a threat had gotten her just a hair past paranoid. “Head of security for the Kanes; my fanclub truly knows no bounds.”  
  
    More than anything, Veronica had wanted her mother home, and happy, and her family back, again. Solving Lilly’s case was supposed to do that, and now Veronica felt like she was a hundred yards behind the line of scrimmage all over again. With the added angle of conspiracy that implicated and threatened her, personally.   
  
    “What’d your dad say?” Wallace took the solo shot in the dark, and her frown gave him his answer. For the girl with a lot of issues about upfront honesty, Wallace wasn’t a stranger to the impressive with-holding powers of Veronica Mars. “What’d Logan say?” This time, her frown threw him a little. “Really? You think that’ll play well?”  
  
    It wasn’t a secret that Wallace wasn’t about to braid a friendship bracelet for the guy; honestly, he doesn’t get the appeal of Logan Echolls. Sure, there was the money and the bad-boy charm, but that came with a lot of bad-boy attitude, and Wallace had seen Veronica on the receiving end of torment at Logan’s rich, little hands. Again, he’s not about to order a round of cosmopolitans and indulge a certain level of cattiness; he’s just wary, that’s all.   
  
    “I just need to figure out how to get Weidman to tell me about these pictures; to tell me about why he was following me, what kind of a deal my mother apparently made with the King and Queen of Neptune. I’m obviously gonna tell Logan.” It wasn’t that Veronica had been avoiding it so much as… showing him the pictures, or even telling him about them, officially crossed off the possibility of it _being nothing._ Escalating this whole thing with Weidman and the Kanes, would definitely reclassify it as at least a Category-2 _something_.   
  
    “Tell Logan what?” Logan wrapped his arms around her middle, kissing the tip of her ear hello, with a cursory nod to Wallace. At the beat of silence that passed over the three of them, Logan choked back a chuckle, with a stifled, stiff grin. “Is… everything okay?” Fingers skirting the edge of her shirt, Logan felt her shake away a tension.   
  
    “I think… Weidman’s been following me for awhile. Like, before… Before _Lilly,_ awhile. I found surveillance photos, well _done_ surveillance photos, and I know _I_ didn’t take them so… Weidman would be my next best guess.” Veronica looked up at him, breathing out a breath she’d held for too many seconds. “See ya, Wallace,” Veronica waved at Wallace retreating down the hall.   
  
    “What’d your dad say?” Logan stiffened, he couldn’t help it. He’s never known Clarence Weidman, or the Kanes for that matter, to really be dangerous. But tracking them to Arizona, taking pictures of her years ago… So much for it being nothing.   
  
   Veronica frowned up at him.   
  
   “Why does everyone keep asking me that,” She sighed against him and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Walk me to my car?” With an elbow to his ribs, Veronica hoped his face would lighten, but it hardly did.   
  
    “Do you think Duncan knows anything about this?” Logan kept his voice low to her, wrapping an arm over her shoulder as they walked. He watched the twitch in the corner of her mouth that said _contemplating_ and again, there’s the creeping nice feeling of her being suspicious of someone other than him. Even after weeks of _them_ and kissing and roadtripping and watching tv with her feet across his lap, it’s still very nice to not be the villain of her story anymore.   
  
    “I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s possible but… the thing is, why would he know anything about it, you know? I think… I think our parents had some gross _thing_ in high school, and maybe even recently, and I’m not sure what it means but. Doesn’t feel like the kind of thing you discuss at the dinner table between courses.” Arriving at the lebaron, Veronica leaned against it, still half-tangled in Logan’s arms wrapped around her. Snaking her hands up his chest, she stretched up to kiss him.   
  
    “Wait.. you mean _not_ everyone’s family discusses extra-marital indiscretions between pass-the-salt and how-was-your-day? Hmm.. Gotta add that to behavior journal.” Lightly laughing into her cheek, it was always there- still pretty fucking fresh some days, the reality of his father’s behavior, his father’s heinous actions against people he loved; against him. But Logan’s a roll-with-the-assault-of-punches kind of guy; Lilly’s death hadn’t killed him, or Missy’s, or their family’s dirty laundry aired out before Neptune and semi-national stage. If you couldn’t laugh about it, what _could_ you do?  
  
    “Usually we leave it for dessert, you know. Little ice cream, little scandal. Spoonful of sugar and all that.” Veronica grimaced, the looming question of what to say to her dad staring her almost literally in the face. Maybe tonight _would_ be a good night for dessert-for-dinner. A little ice cream, a little scandal, maybe a cherry on top.  
  
     


	5. Kicking Up Dust

  
    Restless in bed, nearly two weeks after leaving her mother in the clinic, Veronica was exhausted. Exhausted from walking on eggshells around her father, from tip-toeing around Clarence Weidman- not to mention the English paper she had due in three days. Flipping over on her side again, Veronica tucked her arm under her face and watched the clock blink 3 am, then 4 am, then 5 am, and when 5:45 crept by, she huffed and threw the covers back.   
  
    When her dad knocked on her door at 6:30, to find her organizing her desk drawers, Keith sighed.   
  
    “Please tell me you’re at least awake, and not sleep-cleaning.” Stretching his arms over his head, Keith answered her subsequent glare with a laugh. “Is everything okay, then? I know you own less Tiger Beat issues than your average seventeen year old, but sunrise cleaning seems like a red flag to be concerned about.”   
  
    Veronica softened her expression, with a glance around her room. Desk drawers splayed on her floor, she could see how this might raise a red flag, or two.   
  
    “Just a little… spring cleaning.” She shook her head, and nearly 6:45 meant she she probably start self-cleaning, with the teeth brushing and the hair washing before school. “Wanna edge in for father of the year and make the coffee?” Veronica offered her best hopeful smile, _father of the year_ ; the phrase caught. Aaron Echolls was in jail for killing teenagers, Jake Kane was harboring happy-time secrets. Veronica couldn’t think of a single dad besides her’s who’d even make the ballot. Even if he barely contested ice cream for dinner. _Take that, high school guidance counselor; positive role models all around,_ Veronica half-joked at herself, wondering if her mother had passed the vibrations-and-vomits stage of detoxing and drying out.   
  
    “Who’s your daddy?” Said less like a question, more like a taunt, Keith winked; off to perform his appropriated fatherly duties.   
  
    “I hate it when you say that,” Veronica called after him, but after everything they’d been through, how was she supposed to mean that?   
  
    

* * *

  
  
    Notes in front of her, Veronica frowned down at her lunch table. Files and folders, notes, a mixture of dirt on Weidman and the English paper she was supposed to be working on. Getting to Weidman wasn’t going to be the simple honeypot play Aaron Echolls’ might’ve fallen prey to. Weidman was trained- intelligence, counterintelligence, surveillance, who even knew what else. All Veronica could amount that up to, was that he relied on secrecy- on burying secrets, and wouldn’t it just be a shame if those skeletons started walking out of Jake Kane’s closet?   
  
    The irony isn’t lost on her- their family had sacrificed everything in pursuit of Jake Kane once already. Now she has Wallace, Logan, even Weevil, and Mac, and she’s almost got her mom back- going after Weidman and the Kanes now, well… _sins of the father, sins of the… daughter,_ Veronica smiled to herself. Briefly, because mostly she just felt like she needed a nap.   
  
    “Did I hear from Madison Sinclair that you ‘windexed the front of your locker, like the freakazoid you are,?’ Her words.” Logan ran his finger against the bangs over her eyes. “Uh oh, you have scheming face. Who are we cooking alive, and should I bring any special sauces to the party?” Kissing her hello, Logan straddled the bench next to her, eyes skimming over the spread in front of her. Anger, Logan got; he recognized it in her like an old friend they had in common. And the way it pinked her cheeks just a little? He wasn’t above appreciating that, either.   
  
   “Hmm. Clarence Weidman, sweet and sour? Or maybe he’d go great with a nice tartar? I don’t know… what goes well with grilled and flayed?” Straining to keep her voice casual, Veronica accepted his hello-kiss with a terse smile. When Logan offered his fries, she decided to keep him around awhile longer, and shot him a thankful look. “And I’m doing my spring cleaning, for Madison’s information.”   
  
    “Hang on…. Did it just get _colder_ out here? Veronica, babe, do you feel a _chill?_ ” Dramatic eyebrows ever in play, Logan finished his routine with a glare at Duncan approaching their table. Veronica’s table, with a probationary-Logan-shaped-addendum.   
  
    “Can I.. talk to you?” Duncan ground out, rolling his eyes at Neptune’s talked-about-twosome.   
  
    Again, there irony was, just slapping her in the face; even if she wasn’t sure it was _technically_ irony- crap, she really needed to do that English project. But Duncan Kane gone solo, lost Veronica, lost Lilly, lost Logan… A king without a court; what kind of kingdom was that? And he’d approached the table of exile with a look of penance on his face and everything. Penance, or just-ate-a-sock. Either way, Veronica stared ahead.   
  
    “Hey, I’m just letting anyone sit here, these days.” Veronica nudged Logan with a playful smile, and shifted her notes into a big pile, burying Weidman’s dirt way, way down in the mix.   
  
    “This is really about Veronica.” Duncan said to Logan, and seemingly stunned all three of them for a moment. “Maybe we could have a moment?” He added, forcefully.   
  
    Veronica rolled her eyes, if only to think of another good ruler joke.   
  
    “Sure, man.” It was Logan’s turn to stun, hands up, surrendered, he kissed Veronica’s cheek and went to stand, stopped only by her holding his sleeve.   
  
    “Gentlemen, please. Respect the table.” Veronica gestured to the lunch table- _her_ table. “Domain a la Mars?”  Sure, she’d wanted to Logan and Duncan to speak again, not just for her own reasons. But speaking over her, about her, like she wasn’t sitting between them? _Let me think… no, thank you,_ Veronica thought. When Logan sat again, and Duncan groaned, Veronica merely pressed on. “Thank you. You were saying?”   
  
    “You… do _things_ , right? Track people and whatever? _Break into people’s houses._ ” Glaring between them, Duncan’s tone was dismissive, like he was about to shrug off the whole thing and walk away for good any second. But he stayed. “It’s… probably nothing, but my mom said she was going to be upstate all weekend, but the number she left me to call her, is a hotel room in Arizona. Weird, right? Listen don’t… don’t _tell_ anyone about this, I… you know what, it’s probably nothing, like I said just-”   
  
    “Duncan.” Veronica exhaled, eyes to Logan, and he couldn’t find a trace of pink in her cheeks. “I’ll look into it, okay? Just give me the number.”   
  
    When he left the number, and then left the table, Veronica could really only think about one thing.   
  
    “I really need a nap,” She leaned against Logan’s shoulder a whole twenty seconds before the bell rang to end lunch.   
  
    “Feel refreshed?” He kissed her nose, not even a little put off by her sleep-lacking glare. “Actually, tomorrow night my mother’s leaving for a cruise _with the girls,”_ He made the V for Vacation sign with his hands. “I know a way you could get a nice, peaceful naptime.” Hooking his arms through hers around her waist, back into school, since the road trip Logan had been dying to spend the night with her again. Not _spend the night,_ spend the night- just… sleep with her, listen to her mumble about the wolves again, catch her drooling on her pillow, feel her tuck herself against him. Plus, he wasn’t entirely uninterested in _spending_ the night with her, truthfully. All she had to do was say the word.   
  
    “I won’t even haveta sleep on the floor this time?” Leaning back into him, Veronica spent a second contemplating. With any luck, her dad would be out-of-state catching some bail jumper, anyway. It would _hardly_ be like lying to him.   
  
    “Well _I’m_ not kicking you out of bed. As long as you behave, obviously, that goes without saying.” Kissing her goodbye before her next class, when Logan looked up, Duncan was staring at them from down the hall, and then rushed into the classroom. Fists balled and unballed, Duncan was a problem for another day. Besides, Logan needed a favor from Weevil, and with any luck, everyone’s favorite gang leader would be down in the auto-shop class.


	6. Tuesday, for Veronica Mars

Feeling her stirring by his side, Logan woke slowly; waited as his eyes adjusted to the breaking daylight, reassured by her warmth and closeness. Every memory of Lilly and Missy, tarnished a little by their grisly murders by his father, but even still he couldn’t remember any moments like this with Missy, or even Lilly, really. Measuring his breathing, Logan draped an arm over Veronica, and ran his thumb in the space between her shoulder blades. Soft skin on soft skin. It wasn’t sex, it wasn’t anything- she was still asleep- her eyes were still shut loosely, and it was cute, how she was only slightly terrifying in her sleep. Like a sleeping mountain lion; all honey gold, threats to bed. Her hair strewn loosely on her pillow, the longest strands just stretching towards him, and he remembered waking up alone and angry in the Neptune Grand, all that time ago, and his chest swelled.  
  
    “Are you awake already?” Veronica whispered, voice weighted with sleep, and her eyes still closed. But she leaned in closer to his chest, invited by the pocket of warmth against him; it was almost too warm to be comfortable, but she didn’t move away.  
  
    “Should I take your invitation to cuddle as an implicit desire to skip school today?” Logan felt her blinking, eyelashes tickled his chest. He felt her breath on his neck, hot and calmed.  
  
    Groaning, she nestled even closer, “No,” she sighed.  
  
   “Five more minutes?” Arm still wrapped around her, he smiled sleepily into her hair, winning a sort-of I-told-you-so bet with himself. That face of determination she’d made after every one of his attempts to destroy her, used to be the best part of his day. Hating Veronica Mars had been all-consuming, and even if loving her was a hard pivot  of priorities, it was just as infectious. That set jaw and steely glare used to be the best part of his day; her finger tickling over his hip bone suddenly occupied that top spot.  
  
    “Better make it ten; this 1200-thread-count cloud I’m wrapped in really makes a girl want to sleep in with the right company,” She yawned against him, already mentally trying to rediscover where in his room her socks could’ve gotten to. Putting her PI mind to work, she figured she could find them in the bottom of his bed. In ten more minutes, of course.

* * *

  
  
    Wallace rolled his eyes at Veronica’s fake, work voice as she talked into her phone.  
  
    “Thank you so much, Dr. Young, I really appreciate you calling me back.” Closing her phone, Veronica decided she could process _and_ best-friend, simultaneously. “Your face says you’re fine but you didn’t even _try_ to steal my pudding cup so…” Work-voice dropped, her face twisted into mock confusion. “What’s up, Fennell?”  
  
    “You don’t know? Seriously you go _here_ , and this is right up your alley.” The dark, twisted alley of thin-ice conspiracy, where miraculously, 09-ers dominated clean and away, every time. “According to the grape-vine down from Clemmons’ office aids…” Wallace shrugged. “Word is, Neptune High’s about to defund non-academics in a big way. But hey, guess which crowd doesn’t have to worry about that?” He huffed. “Without the school’s funding, kids and their parents have to make up the difference. Uniforms, travel, they’re talking about even having the players pay for gym time. Only kids who can afford to say, play on the basketball team, are gonna be able to play on the basketball team. Do you see Sac n Pac paying for my basketball career?” Shaking his head, Wallace finally went for the pudding cup.  
  
   “Well. Did they say what they’re cutting the funding to support instead?” Veronica mulled. Pep squad hadn’t been totally sponsored by the school in the first place. She didn’t want a spot on the team anymore, but suddenly smacked with the realization that the bar of entry would be higher for kids like her, conveniently leaving prime extracurricular spots open for the Madison Sinclairs of the world… Veronica sighed. Was it just her or was Justice somehow getting blinder?  
  
    “The mayor’s asking for a _reallocation of funds_ ,” Wallace air- quoted, with a flair of his eyebrow, “For the school to re-do the auditorium and name it after him, after which he’ll think about re-investing city funds to the high school. Apparently he’s been floating the idea for years, but he’s threatening the administration with harsh cutbacks _from now_ without a commitment from the school.”  
  
    “Is guys wanting their name on things like… some kind of penis metaphor? Is it a territorial thing, like what is it? Whole thing sounds shady. Why not just grant the school money to build the new auditorium?” Seemed like a shortcut, to Veronica, one where Wallace could still play basketball.  
  
    “Hey, don’t look at me. Clemmons didn’t consult me on this.” Wallace smiled, teasing. “This whole _town_ is shady, V, or did you forget?”  
  
     _How could I?_  Veronica couldn’t help but think. _Shady Head of Security on my ass, about some shady deal my mother made, and my prime source of income is digging up other people’s dirt. And it’s heavy lifting, most days._  
  
    “Right, right.” She chewed a thumbnail.  
  
    “So what do we do?” Wallace looked to her.  
  
    “Do?” Veronica played innocent, coy even; it’s one of her favorite faces to pull at him, if only for a moment. Her plate was already full, after tracking Celeste Kane within five miles of the facility where Lianne was staying, assured by the doctor on the phone of the absolutely-no-visitors policy of _New Horizons_ , Veronica still had Clarence Weidman to deal with. Not to mention, her dad’s usual cases and office work. _Come to think of it, have I gotten too much sleep lately?_ She shook her head. “We exemplify model students, who are interested in local politics and school happenings.” She smiled. “Have I mentioned I’m on the newspaper now?”  
  
    “Have I mentioned that could get gutted funding, too?” He smarted at her scowl. “Better get that work-voice back on.”  
  
    “I don’t have a _work voice._ ” She _pfft-_ ed.  


* * *

  
  
    As crimes went, as legal gray areas were concerned, Veronica was starting to be increasingly comfortable with forging state documents. Was that a skill you could put on a resume? _Right under highly-organized and dedicated,_ Veronica snorted. Stamping the forgery with her dad’s old Sheriff stamp seal, it was a potentially implicating and traceable gamble. But would Clarence Weidman care if it was fake or not? The message would be crystal clear, and that’s all Veronica focused in on. A mock Personal Protection Order. If he banked on it being a forgery, that could help her, too. Getting Weidman to even take a half-step away from her, would still make him show her where he was. And the implication of acknowledgment, her reach into the Kane’s fortress of solitude, to get him the message that she wasn’t the girl in the photos anymore. Sure, he had the training. The expertise, the skill, maybe even a love of the game to tie it all in together. But Veronica was positive that when it came down to it, him being determined to frighten her wouldn’t ever work again. And that was the one skill he relied upon the most. _If Clarence Weidman was looking for someone to intimidate, he never should've gone after Keith Mars’ daughter,_ Veronica shrugged, licking the envelope with a scrunch of her nose _._ For her next act, she had to figure out how to get a new auditorium without taking Wallace's basketball jersey right off his back. 


	7. Shades of Mars

  
    “Any reason people are leaving messages for a Jessie Hart?” Keith fixed his tie, tucking and pulling, almost ready for the day to start. “I didn’t listen all the way through, though, I skipped ahead to Mrs. Mayhann’s call; she’ll be in soon, thinks her husband’s wandering eye actually got his legs to follow suit. So, messages for Jessie? What’re those about?”  
  
   At Veronica’s wince, his face fell flat.  
  
    “She’s a very popular gal?” She tried, she really did, but beating her dad to the office on a Saturday morning was a tough task for any girl, let alone one sleep deprived from night-long cuddle sessions. Her dad was back from chasing that bail jumper, and Lynn Echolls returned, too, so Veronica snapped the honeymoon take closed. _For now_ . “It’s for a case I’m doing for a school friend. Don’t worry, it’s all low-grade weaponry and I should have it wrapped up soon. _Jessie_ should have it wrapped up soon. Like your Mayhann case.” _Don’t worry_ , she could’ve laughed. His face screamed fatherly attention, lasered in on her.  
  
    Checking her messages, Veronica kept the phone pressed to her ear, willfully ignoring the speaker option with her dad in the room.  
  
    “And how is _Jessie_ keeping up with her schoolwork?” Pressing the office coffee machine to _on_ , Keith disregarded her eyeroll with a practiced nod.  
  
    “She’s actually dropping out to pursue a lucrative stripping career, what can I say, pops. Sex sells.” Veronica winked and shrugged, sighing at herself when she had to replay the message again to listen this time.  
  
    “Okay, now, I don’t need to hear that kind of talk from my teenage daughter about her aliases.” Keith frowned, thinking about catching her cleaning room spotless, working early on the weekends. “Anything you need my help with?”  
  
    Veronica balked, the phone receiver still to her ear. PI Mars’ insight into a new-old Kane scandal on the rise could’ve been invaluable. But the backstory and set up, of Weidman’s threats, Lianne in rehab, the decoy spring break, and Duncan’s concerns? The man hadn’lt even finished his coffee yet. Mars family morale had been on the upswing since Aaron’s arrest; as silly as it might’ve been, Veronica hoped to keep that intact a little longer. Not to mention, trying to figure out why the mayor was strong-arming the school into naming a room after him… Community involvement was a good box to tick on the climb up the political ladder, to a more-cushy peg, like Governor or Representative. But why defund the school to get there, was the question her mind paced back to, every time. Nevertheless, Veronica reminded herself where political figures ranked on the list of people she wasn’t supposed to go after alone- were they above or below Jake Kane, these days?  
  
    The message left for Jessie Hart, said the mayor’s office _was_ looking for a clerical student intern. Unpaid labor being her least favorite kind, _guess her stripping career’s gonna haveta be sunsetted for now,_ Veronica thought, and deleted the message.  
  
   “Nope. You have the Mayhann client meeting in fifteen, I’m taking Back Up for a walk, and I can handle this.” She reminded him, reminded them both, because of that she was at least positive. But could she handle it all without losing everything all over again, and hurting her dad in the process? Maybe with Jessie taking some of the heat. 

* * *

  
  
  
    Knowing Celeste Kane and Clarence Weidman were tracking down her mother, trying to get to her- and understanding why, were two different things. Back Up on his leash next to her, and fake restraining order dispatched to Weidman, Veronica felt fine to ring the Kane’s doorbell. _They wanted to get their pet involved, might as well show them I have my own,_ she thought down to Back Up. Clarence Weidman may have been the Kanes’ set of teeth, but Veronica was ready to face the Kanes again regardless.  
  
    “Veronica Mars…” Jake answered the door, without bothering to mask his confusion, even perturbation, at her presence. “Can I… help you with something?”  
  
    Fighting to keep from rolling her eyes, or just from screaming questions at him, Veronica forged her best smile ahead; honey over vinegar, and all that. There would be a time and a place to eat Jake Kane alive, all Veronica had to do was wait for it.  
  
   “I was wondering if Duncan was home…” Actually speaking, Veronica heard her voice sound more unsure than she felt. Of course, the Kanes had always had that indescribable effect, of shrinking her down. _Can Duncan come out and play?_ Veronica shrugged off a laugh internally; the theater of the Kanes was something she’d gotten used to a long time ago, now she only missed Lilly laughing with her.  
  
    With a stiff air and clear reluctance, Jake agreed to fetch his son, and then Veronica had a fresh new set of Kane-shaped obstacles; what to actually tell Duncan, and what to ask him. It was an uneasy conversation, with a practical stranger she happened to have a lot of overlapped history with. But Duncan was Duncan, and to Veronica, he appeared as unphased and unaffected as ever. Had he always been like that, or was this an after-Lilly’s-death addendum? Long ago, Veronica branded anything that Duncan did as cute, now he just grated her nerves down to a powder.  
  
    “So here’s the thing.” Veronica clicked her tongue at Back Up, a signal to relax for the immediate future, nothing openly threatened. “Why would your mother go to Arizona, to visit mine?”  
  
   For a moment, she watched his face; more like his dad’s now than when they’d been close. With his eyes still down at Back Up, Duncan reacted by not reacting.  
  
    “Aren’t you the spy?” In a harsh whisper, he leaned closer until she flinched back, and he spent a second thinking about the implications of that, before continuing. “Jesus, Veronica, I don’t know what our moms would have to say to each other, but I’m surprised we couldn’t hear it even from Arizona.” He stepped back, and Veronica could recognize that face from her dad’s clients. _Definitely_ regret, with a side of defensiveness; there weren’t many places for her steer their conversation now, that wouldn’t kick up old dust.  
  
    “So you don’t know anything about some _deal_ your parents supposedly made with my mother?” Keeping her voice even-keeled, Veronica hadn’t expected him to know anything about it, but when his eyebrow flicked momentarily, she reconsidered. “Duncan…I know we’re not.. _Friends_ or anything, but-”  
  
    “Yeah, don’t you have a shadow to get back to? About six feet tall, dates his best friend’s exes…” Duncan sucked air through his teeth, and stepped back into the doorway of his house.  
  
     _"You_ asked _me_ to look into this,” Veronica ground her teeth. “If you don’t like the visual above ground, put your head back in the sand, Duncan.” Tugging Back Up away, Veronica’s cheeks felt hot, with impatience and frustration.  


* * *

  
  
   Trading in 09-er upper suburbia and the frost-tipped peaks of the Kane’s cold reception for the beach, Veronica did happily. Celeste _trying_ to visit Lianne in Arizona, meant that whatever Clarence Weidman was doing hovering in Mars territory, Celeste Kane was doing it, too. Whatever icky thing _a relationship with Jake Kane that Veronica may not approve of_ meant, maybe Celeste Kane found disapproval in it, too, and hey, look at that, Veronica had exactly one thing in common with her once-upon-a-time-mother-in-law-hopeful.  
  
    As a distraction, she made her return calls to the mayor’s office; Jessie officially took an unpaid clerical position, and Veronica planned to use it to gain access to the mayor, and any mayoral dealings that the school might be concerned with. With any luck, an intern at the mayor's office would be like an intern anywhere else; utterly invisible, with a side of believable cluelessness if she ran into trouble. In her head, her dad's voice warned about public officials. About how people with power promised to cling to it. About how she should be living a normal teenage life, one that didn't include investigating a mayor for.... who even knew what, yet. No actions had been taken with regards to immediate funding, but Wallace’s insistence on crisis had a little pep in her step, even if she _was_ working at the beach just then.  
  
    “Uh oh, you look like you’ve been properly Kane’ed.” Logan strode up, bearing ice cream and a smile. Agreeing to let her confront Duncan alone, meant that negotiating ice cream at the beach was that much easier. Kissing her mouth with his sticky lips, he got a laugh out of her.   
  
    “Don’t make it sound so dirty,” With a look that half-scolded, Veronica took a cone from him, and watched Back Up chase seagulls. “I just don’t get why he would’ve asked me about it if he wasn’t curious what it _means_ , you know.” Looking up to Logan, she smiled. “He asked about you, you know.”  
  
     _More or less,_  Veronica shrugged. The idea that she was supposed to forever-remain _Duncan’s Ex_ , like a brand on her forehead, nagged at her. Burying Lilly, putting away her killer, mattered more than any of the teenage soap opera special before her death. Duncan’s abandonment always stung, his rejection always hurt, but once it’d been one abandonment among many, Veronica didn’t see how it stood out from the crowd. He’d just been first, in a long string of tragedies. And compared to everything, compared to losing Lilly, losing her Mom, her dad losing Sheriff- compared to being held at gunpoint, or threatened by Clarence Weidman, Duncan Kane’s lukewarm standoffish just didn’t blip very high on her radar.  
  
    “Wow, Duncan hasn't had me scrubbed from all crevices of his mushy brain, yet?” Stabbing his cone at her nose, Logan couldn’t resist taking a lick of chocolate ice cream off of it, and then working his way back down to her mouth. "You told him I'm taken, right?"   
  
     "Like candy from a baby, duh." She smiled, into another kiss, until ice cream was dripping from her cone onto her hand. "Making a mess," Veronica pried her lips away, to re-prioritize ice cream.   
  
     "Oh, you got something-" Logan pointed to a spot on her chest, and when she looked down he flicked his finger up-   
  
     Spending a few seconds utterly scandalized, Veronica dropped her jaw open, and shook her head. "Oh, okay, I see, you think I won't taser you just because you're my boyfriend." She teased, going back to her ice cream while his hand came back up to brush winded strands of hair from her face.   
  
     "I think you won't taser me because you think I'm cute." He leaned down to kiss her mouth again, sweet and sticky, when she had just a bite of her cone left.   
  
     "Cute? Hmm..." She sighed, and when he kissed her then she caught his bottom lip between her teeth. More often than not, when their kisses broke apart, Logan's eyes were always open before hers- waiting for her's to blink up at him. With his lip tugged between her teeth, Veronica looked up at him and recognized heat behind his eyes. Passion, and hot, hot, heat. Releasing him, she couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, cute, maybe. If you're... into that sort of thing," She shrugged. 


	8. Hinky

Flopping face-down into Logan’s bed, Veronica let out a heavy sigh into the blanket. She couldn’t stay, not all night… but resting her eyes, Veronica wasn’t sure she even  _ would  _ be able to move again. Laying his hand across her back after flicking through the tv’s channels, Logan smiled.    
  
    “How was my aspiring politician’s first day at work?” Running his fingertips over her spine, hitching up her shirt just a little, he heard her muffled sigh into the covers again, with a dose of satisfaction in that one.    
  
    “It’s like scandal  _ overload- _ digging out just  _ one _ is like finding a needle in a shit-stack.” Leaning up, Veronica shook her head. Politics was a notoriously dirty business, especially in Neptune’s particular shade of shifty. Balancing her need for information with her need for sanity and sleep was going to be the real challenge of working in the mayor’s office. Every other intern, every other staffer, knew a little something about a little something and heard it from someone else, and everyone had been willing to tell the new girl  _ Jessie _ just about anything she asked. As long as she brought the coffee and fake smiles, anyway.   
  
    “I really hope you at least washed your hands then.” Logan teased, talking into her hair until he kissed her ear. “Think there’s something hinky,” he wiggled his his eyebrows, “going on at school that’ll help narrow your shit-pile search?” Textbook espionage may not have been his world; Logan’s predominant instincts involved fists over wait-and-see tactics, but stepping into her world, getting to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her.... In his mind, there was a Veronica standing atop a great hill somewhere, who could do anything, face anything, laugh off anything, and as much as Logan never wanted to inhibit that, mostly he just wanted to stand next to her. Help her do anything, help her face anything, help her laugh off anything. Tapping his cold fingertips against the soft, white skin of her back, Logan hoped the Veronica in his bed knew that.    
  
    Considering the school-corruption angle hadn’t escaped Veronica’s wide sense of suspicion, and Clemmons always knew more than he let on, but Veronica couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t placed students’ best interests first. She hasn’t met a person in Neptune without a closet full of skeletons, though, and it might be time for Veronica Mars to have a sit-down with her vice principal.    
  
    Exhaling, Veronica leaned up on her elbows, and rolled to her side.    
  
    “You think Clemmons has ever gotten a parking ticket?” She laughed at the thought of a wilder and more rebellious Clemmons; with more hair. “That  _ tickles,”  _ Shivering into his side, Veronica shook her head up at Logan, who’d taken to running a finger against the elastic of her bra.    
  
    “That would be the  _ point _ .” Logan leaned down to kiss her, leaving his hand under her shirt still  _ tickling.  _ “You should  _ stay, _ ” whispering the whine straight into her neck, Logan let his tongue and lips do a different convincing, making his way down to her collarbone.    
  
    Arching back to meet his kisses, Veronica held him in place against her, even as she insisted she had to leave. “Remember my dad’s guns? The things we’re trying  _ not  _ to get shot with.” Veronica kept one hand on his chest, as his other hand found it’s way around her waist.  _ “Really _ not helping, you’re putting us both very much in danger of a  _ case of lead poisoning _ .” Veronica did her best old-timey-detective schtick, and the laugh Logan gave shook his chest against her.  _ “Sir, I’m gonna need your hands up.”  _ Continuing the bit, Veronica fought losing it to her own laugh.    
  
    “Or what, you’ll cuff me?” Voice gone dangerously low, Logan was resting the bulk of his weight on her, hands still very much not up. “Scale of one to ten, how badly do you  _ actually _ need to leave?” His face went serious, remembering times he’d missed curfews for stupid, stolen moments and ended up regretting it for weeks. Those days were over for him, and he didn’t think Veronica ever had to worry about  _ that _ , but her dad  _ had  _ been Sheriff. He had that whole access-to-guns thing they both kept remembering.    
  
    “Mmm….  _ ten _ , I actually  _ do  _ need to leave.” An all nighter, unannounced on a school night? After lying to her dad about where she’d been after school? That wasn’t going to be an option, but… Logan kissed her, bringing a hand back up to her neck. “But I’m sure I can lose track of time for a whole extra five minutes if you keep kissing me like that.”    
  
    School was going to be bad enough on limited sleep; she was going to be digging into her power reserves as it was, let  alone if she was going to go toe-to-toe with Clemmons on the business with the mayor. And then after school she had her job at the mayor’s, and then her job at her dad’s, and then...


	9. Listening In

Tucked into the stiff, stale-smelling waiting-room seat, patiently waiting on Clemmons to call her in, Veronica admired her own timing; she’d managed to finagle an excused gym absence and everything.   
  
   When Clemmons’ office door swung open, and Weevil came out looking surlier and sorrier than usual, Veronica eyed Weevil out of the office lobby with a silent, thin-lipped smile. If she was a betting woman, Veronica would’ve put all her money on her to-do list just getting one Weevil-related-item longer in size. Pivoting back to Clemmons’ dead-eyed disappointment at seeing her, Veronica amped up the wattage on her smile.   
  
    “Do we have a meeting, Ms. Mars?” Clemmons showed her to his desk.   
  
     Familiar, dependable Clemmons, and his never-changing office. Some things were dependable, at least in their resistance to change. More than ever, Veronica dragged her feet away from Clemmons doing any wrong in his budget dealings with the mayor; but then  _ who _ was truly responsible for the impending cuts?   
  
   “You mean you don’t leave a standing slot open for me to come in and chat when I please?” Veronica took her seat across the desk from him, elbows splayed across the armrests, getting comfortable. “I’m insulted, really. Wounded, actually.”   
  
    “Are we doing this bit just so you can get out of PE?” Folding his hands over his desk, Clemmons levelled his practiced administrative stare at her. Years of students, years of Veronica Mars in particular, he’s learned his lessons well.   
  
    “Mr. C, if I really  wanted to skip gym, I’d just go smoke behind the kitchen with the lunch ladies and about half my gym class. Nope, I come with  _ purpose _ , I assure you.” Sitting up, leaning closer to the desk, Veronica thought she saw a crack in Clemmons’ glare; a falter in his focus. Flicking her eyes to the clock on the wall, Veronica counted 3...2...1…   
  
   The fire alarm rang on her mental cue, and Wallace Fennel slotted himself the world’s most valuable bff for the millionth time.   
  
    Clemmons went to check with his secretary, started fire drill protocols regardless of this drill being on the schedule, and while his back was to her, Veronica stuck one of her dad’s bugs to the inside lip of a fake office plant’s ugly flower pot.   
  
_ Clemmons, meet Purpose,  _ Veronica thought and smiled to herself for a second, until the angry blare of the fire alarm reminded her to keep moving, posterity be damned.   
  
   “Ms. Mars, the loud ringing bells mean fire drill. You don’t think I’ll leave you unattended in my office, do you?” Clemmons closed the door behind her, only after she stepped out.    
  
    “Not unless the building really  _ was  _ on fire,” Veronica muttered under her breath, and saw the halls flooding with kids making their way out of the building.

  
    “We’ll have to reschedule our meeting for some other time.” He called after Veronica, as she started leaving the office in the chaos created by the fire alarm.   
  
    “I know where to find you.” Veronica sing-songed, saluted, and left the office to join the throng of kids on their way out. Definitely missing her whole gym period today.   
  
_ Bugging the administration might be considered a somewhat nuclear option _ , Veronica thought, following the procession of kids into the courtyard while they waited for the alarm to stop ringing. But with her ongoing cold-war-in-limbo with Clarence Weidman, Veronica was itching for a little mushroom cloud. Besides, she was in this investigation for a penny and a pound, and shaking the Clemmons tree until scandal fell… Veronica was prepared to be patient, but not  _ that  _ patient.   
  
    Schmoozing her upper-level-staffer boss into letting her take her intern’s work home for the day, was a little more difficult than playing Clemmons, but it was how Veronica, for  _ Jessie _ , ended up with roughly 2000 constituent envelopes to address at her desk in her room. Waging paper cuts and critical boredom, at least she had Clemmons’ afterschool revolving door of meetings and visitors to talk to her through her laptop while she hand-addressed the pre-filled envelopes. Most of Clemmons’ meetings were parent-centric, disciplinary actions- little Johnny skipping class, and little Jane caught smoking on school grounds. A few teachers sat down with Clemmons regarding parking spots and yogurts gone missing from the faculty refrigerator, and by the time Veronica heard the closing click of Clemmons’ office door at almost 7 pm, she was dangerously close to garnering something like genuine respect for the man. Thirty years of that, Veronica figured her personality would be a shade duller, too.    
  
    Around 1600 envelopes in, Veronica was about to huff a sigh through the monotony, when she heard the shatter of breaking glass through her laptop and froze. Unless Clemmons forgot something at his desk and decided to take a shortcut through the office window, Veronica figured she was listening to someone currently breaking into the school, in real time. Dropping envelope #1601, Veronica focused on the noises, listened harder. Papers ruffling, drawers sliding open and closed, Veronica couldn’t tell how many people were in the office, breathless, she just kept hoping someone would speak. After a beat of still silence through the transmitter, Veronica heard the bang of metal on metal, and she remembered the lock on the metal filing cabinet in the office.    
  
    “The keys are probably in the  _ drawer, _ ” Veronica shook her head, talked to herself, and kept listening. When the banging stopped, she heard more paper shuffling and scattering, and then a few seconds of glass tinkling, and then silence. “I just  _ know _ Clemmons is gonna call me in for this.” Leaning back in her chair, Veronica went back to glaring at the pile of unaddressed envelopes on her desk. Innocuous rogue student pulling a prank or seedy political move against the school administration? Regardless, Veronica didn’t want her transmitter getting picked up in whatever half-brained investigation Lamb would be called in to do on the school’s behalf. Dialing the Sheriff’s anonymous tip line, vague, anonymous tips about the school break-in already on her tongue, Veronica sighed.  With any luck, maybe she would at least get out of gym again.    



	10. When Crime Calls

  “Seriously, I had to _personally deliver_ Clemmons coffee to get this back,” Wallace thrust the transmitter into Veronica’s hands, like it physically burned him to touch it longer than necessary. “Detention? I’m willing to risk. Do you know how many actual cops are in there just waiting for a nice, black kid to stroll in so they can ruin his future?” Crossing his arms, Wallace blinked expectantly at her for a few seconds.   
  
   “ _Thank you_ , Wallace, I greatly appreciate every effort you make to this operation. I had to hand-address 2000 envelopes to keep up my unpaid charade with the mayor, we’re all making sacrifices, here.” With just a hint of patronization in her voice, Veronica could really appreciate Wallace going straight through the line of fire for her this time. Lamb didn’t have the capability to walk the transmitter all the way back to her, or even her dad, but Veronica felt better with it back in her possession, even if it hadn’t really accomplished it’s purpose.   
  
   “You’re welcome, and at least you got improved penmanship out of the deal.” Wallace relaxed minutely, leaning his back against the lockers, with Veronica in whispering distance. “You _didn’t…_ . Right?” Eyeing Clemmons’ office across the hall, with it’s new police presence, and then dragging his eyes back to Veronica, Wallace almost left the question unasked, until she needed him to retrieve a planted bug from a.. plant, and well, then the implication of _something_ had already been made.   
  
   Veronica’s mouth dropped open, scandalized and okay, maybe a little impressed, and then she shook her head.   
  
    “Have I taught you nothing? Brutal subtlety, my friend. Especially with people in positions of power.” Keeping her eyes on Lamb strutting through the school, Veronica ground her teeth. Taking an aliased position at the mayor’s office, bugging the administration’s offices… weren’t really moves of subversive subtlety. But they weren’t all-out war, she considered; they weren’t a sloppy smash-and-grab on school grounds. “Did you get a good look at the crime scene?” Veronica’s attention re-focused on Wallace, and his eye roll.   
  
    “I handed out coffees and swiped your thingamajig, without intentionally incriminating myself, you wanted me to stop and draw you a diagram?” Wallace chuckled, shaking his head. “Place was trashed, like _trashed._ Lamb was taking a student suspect list, that’s all I heard.” With a shrug, Wallace started leading Veronica down the hall. The bell was bound to ring any minute, cut through the chaos of a new very public crime in Neptune.   
  
   “A _student_ suspect list.” Veronica chewed her lip; not everyone had the same kind of Wallace-Fennell-shaped-access to the administrative offices. Getting ahold of certain permanent records, student files, and internal memos would require a certain level of overt criminal activity. Spending a minute considering Clemmons’ latest disciplinary targets, reeling through the meetings he’d had before the break-in, Veronica’s mind tracked to catching Weevil coming out of the office just before she went in. “Hey, I won’t be at lunch today.” Veronica called after Wallace, as she approached the door to her geography class.   
  
    “More envelopes?” Wallace looked skeptical.   
  
    Nodding, _something like that;_ Veronica was expecting to steal at least a few kisses from Logan before the bell rang, but all she got was a few stolen glances at his empty chair. Missing her timely distraction and morning pick-me-up, Veronica half-slept her way through her first few classes, mind still on Weevil, turning through the possibility of him being behind the school’s break-in.   
  
    Halfway through the day, Veronica walked past the girl’s bathroom, only to be tugged in by the elbow. She’s used to keeping odd office hours, but-   
  
    “Hi, sweetie, how’s your day?” Logan jumped down off the sink’s counter to greet her with a quick kiss, a mischievous look in his eyes.   
  
    When Veronica turned to Weevil, the one who apparently did the tugging, she blinked between the two of them for a minute.   
  
    “Am I… interrupting…” She prompted, pointing between them, and Weevil was the first to roll his eyes, while Logan leaned back against the pale pink tiles, looking amused as ever.   
  
    “He thought it’d help his case if I was here for this.” Logan gave a hardly reassuring smirk, smoothing hair behind Veronica’s ear.   
  
    “Right and _this_ is…” Looking to Weevil, Veronica waited.   
  
    “A whole minute without asking, I owe you fifty bucks, Opie,” Weevil shook his head, “the _one_ time you don’t accuse me of the latest criminal event.” He said to Veronica, slipping cash into Logan’s palm, reluctantly. “This _thing_ with Clemmons’ office, I may know something about it, in a… slightly involved capacity.” Shaking his head, Weevil sighed. “I didn’t _do_ it, I’ll save you the trouble of asking, but…”   
  
    “So the _case_ Logan’s here to help you with?” Veronica felt like she was pulling teeth. It was a matter of time, _limited_ time, before Lamb marched after one of his favorite local criminal elements, Weevil, and Veronica wanted to know what _slightly involved_ was supposed to mean to her before that happened; she crossed her arms over her chest.   
  
    “Look, after you saw me get pulled into C’s office yesterday, I was mouthing off to a freshman, just bitching, how Clemmons is a dick and should get what he deserves, _whatever,_ kid decides to show me he’s tough, has my back, shit, I don’t know do I look like I speak freshman? Next thing I know, kid’s banging on my grandmother’s door with stuff from Clemmon’s office.”   
  
    “And you expect me to what- go back in time and stop him from doing that?” Veronica gave a tight smile, shaking her head. Was she wearing a custodial uniform today? How many messes was she expected to clean up before lunch?   
  
    “Sure, if you don’t wanna see the dirt the kid accidentally dug up.” Weevil shrugged, let his offer hang in the air for a minute. “See, I heard, Veronica Mars got herself a little unpaid gig down at the mayor’s office; and, I heard _why.”_   
  
     With an empty glare at Logan, Veronica shuffled her feet on the tile.   


    “Hey, he beat it out of me,” Logan held his hands up in surrender, and swallowed a laugh.  
  
     _Traitors,_ all around her, Veronica rolled her eyes, fighting off a smile.   
  
    “I’ve seen your car, V, you can’t be working for free.” Weevil laughed through a toothy smile, finally getting to the point of the pow-wow. “What if I told you, you could quit moonlighting in politics, based off of what Fankie found.” For all her calculations, all her snares, and concrete-reenforced guard walls, Weevil’s made a habit of appealing to the many interests of Veronica, and he counted on her being interested in this. Her reluctant, slow,  crooked grin said she was probably slowly coming around. “He’s just a kid, V, in over his head for no good reason.”   
  
    The duck of her head told Logan she was in- to help and be helped.   
  
    “I’ll see what I can do.” Veronica nodded sure, and Weevil nodded back; in their own code of unstruck deals and IOU’s, they both knew she meant it. “Make sure _Frankie the freshman_ doesn’t _say_ or _do_ anything else for his pal Weevil. I'll meet you guys at the beach after school.”   
  
     One hand propping the bathroom door open to leave, Weevil laughed. “Are you kidding me? Pipsqueak’s peeing his pants with all these cops around. Thanks, V.”   
  
     _Well, just point me to a mop,_ Veronica thought, ready to clean this up however she could.   
  
    “So did I help?” Logan pulled Veronica close by her waist, clasping his hands around her back. It was weird, a known-gang-affiliate needing back-up getting a favor out of his tiny girlfriend; but hey, nobody even had to get tazed, and Logan had a hot blonde leaning up against him.   
  
    “Half Weevil’s money’s mine, remember? That’s a help,” Veronica laughed, shaking her head. She could only imagine what Frankie might’ve found to help with the investigation into the mayor. Maybe that was why Clemmons kept that filing cabinet locked. _Gosh, and Jessie was just starting to fit into the mayor’s office, too,_ Veronica shook her head. She wasn’t about to get excited, the likelihood of a smash and grab yielding any useful fruit still sounded unlikely to her, but if Weevil said there was something there… maybe there was something there.


	11. The Plot Thickens

           Down on the ‘02 side of the beach, Veronica couldn’t help but people-watch while she waited on Weevil and his little buddy. A few people walking their dogs, playing with their kids, a couple of groups of friends just hanging out. Veronica couldn’t help but think about that being the side of the glass her dad wanted her to be on these days- the strikingly normal side, instead of waiting on a gang leader and his burglar freshman friend. She watched a mom run after her kid, both laughing, and was slow to smile, thinking about chasing her own mother around. All these people have their own secrets, she reminded herself- if she’d learned anything in her line of work, it was that everyone had their own dark side, their own brand of not-normal. 

 

    Weevil’s knuckles rapped on her car window, “Did I wake you?” He teased, brandishing a manilla envelope and swallowing a quip how she was usually the one with the jump on him. 

 

    “What’ve you got for me?” Stepping out of the car, Veronica took a cursory glance at the people that’d distracted her, now looking for anyone paying too much attention to them; satisfied with their level of public privacy, her eyes focused on the envelope. 

 

    “She’s gonna… you’re gonna help me, right?” A kid Veronica didn’t recognize piped up from behind Weevil.

 

    "I told you to wait with the bikes," Weevil scolded under his breath, shaking his head.

 

    "I need to know  _ everything _ ," Veronica said, and it felt good to work in explicit demands, for once. The kid looked to Weevil, then back at Veronica, then back to Weevil, and seemed unsure despite all the checking.

 

    "Not  _ everything _ ." Weevil warned them both with a glare between them. Veronica Mars might lay herself smack on the frontlines of the law, always flirting with stepping out of bounds, but with a huff she reminded herself where Weevil’s feet were always planted- firmly in the land of she-didn’t-need-to-know.

 

    "Clemmons' office; what you saw, what you took, what you left behind." With a sigh, Veronica crossed her arms over her chest, and on Weevil's nod the kid Frankie started talking.

 

    After a lot of prompting, Veronica eventually got an almost clear picture of what Frankie the freshman had done in Clemmons' office. A crowbar didn't afford Frankie a lot of finesse or precision, but he'd used it to smash out two of the ground floor office windows, and then took to trashing the place with it, swiping anything he could carry that looked valuable or important. As a retaliatory smash-and-grab, the act made sense; Veronica wondered just how much  _ talking  _ Weevil had done to get the wiry freshman to think the act was a good idea.

 

    "Taped to the bottom of C's desk," Weevil waved the folder in his hands, "kid didn't even have to be a  _ nosey PI  _ to be curious."

 

    "At least tell me you wore gloves." Veronica took the thick envelope from Weevil, curiosity already pivoted to what scandal Clemmons could be sitting on, and if it had anything to do with the mayor and the cut funding. But she'd promised to try and help Frankie, and the way he'd shaken like a leaf through confessing even to her made Veronica hope Lamb was as bad of an investigator as she'd always assumed. 

 

    "Yeah! Yeah." Momentarily, Frankie lit up, looked to Weevil, and was less on edge than he'd been throughout the whole meeting. "So you'll help me? I didn't think-"

 

    Veronica held up her hand; she'd had the bare bones, that was all she needed to know. "Just don't tell anyone else anything, got it?  _ This  _ little act of vandalism and breaking and entering doesn't go in the street-cred scrapbook, hear me?" Earning a choked laugh from Weevil, Veronica shook her head. "Your's either,  _ Eli _ ." Laugh snuffed out, Weevil still smiled, rolling his eyes.

 

    "Lamb’s gonna be up our asses this week, so just don't forget us little brown people when you're snuggling up to your 09-er honey." Walking away, Weevil winked, ushering Frankie away, too. 

 

_ That jealous, are you? _ Veronica held her middle finger up like a salute, making them both laugh, even as Frankie still looked confused. She shook all thoughts of the pair away, and couldn't wait to tear into her new present. Technically, possession of stolen goods was... less expressly legal than Veronica preferred to operate, but exceptions had to be made before Jessie Hart accidentally got promoted to Assistant's Assistant or something equally ridiculous and she really would've had to tase someone. 

 

    "A forensic accounting report on the mayor's financial relationship with the school and Principal Moorehead..." Murmuring to herself, Veronica browsed the report's findings, combing through scribbled handwritten notes in the margin where the investigator had made his conclusions on the findings.  _ Wait a minute, _ those crooked R's, and 7's slashed  _ just  _ so.. "Dad?" Veronica’s eyes went wide as she bit her lip; the inside scoop on the scandal brewing between the mayor's office and the school administration was closer than she expected. "After Jessie did all that hard coffee gophering and everything," Veronica sighed, with a look down to her still-papercut fingertips from addressing the envelopes in her interns' hat.

  
    Looking up from her report, Veronica saw a girl playing catch with her dad, and she shook her head. _ In the Mars' family, family bonding sometimes looks a little different,  _ Veronica mused, already plotting a meal that might make her dad feel like singing,  _ canary-style _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i took a longer-than-usual break from this one, my schedule got pretty messed up and i didn't have a ton of time for longer stuff like this. got a bunch've chapters to upload in the next couple days, though so i'm gonna make it up to you! thanks for reading!


	12. The Whiff of Truth

  In measured, deep breaths, Veronica inhaled and exhaled, fingers itching to shake something, lips eager to spill words she wouldn’t be able to take back, and this was California, dammit; couldn’t she at least get an earthquake every once in awhile when her world was about to shift, anyway?  
  
    Sitting across the breakfast table, her dad had his newspaper, his OJ, and leftover crusts from lightly-burnt toast-  
  
    “You okay, honey?” Keith asked, without looking up from the paper, even as headlines were the furthest thing from his mind. The last day and a half, Veronica had all but glued pillows to her feet to keep from cracking the eggshells she was stepping on, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Before you lie, remember I’m a trained investigator, like a _bloodhound_ on a scent for the _truth_ , and even you can’t fool the _big dog_ forever, sweetie.” Half mock bravado, half concerned truth, Keith flipped his newspaper down to look at his daughter, he added a dry, “Woof.”  
  
    “ _Big dog?_ ” Veronica’s nose scrunched, even as she relaxed; the kids with parents who only danced embarrassingly got off _way_ too easy in her book. “So I may have stumbled into something I was hoping you could tell me about; cause I could find out for myself, you _know_ I could, I just don’t understand why _you_ wouldn’t have told me.” Reminding herself to breathe, she waited for her dad to grant her her questions; purposefully vague for the plausible deniability of all parties involved.  
  
    “One of the days I went to the mayor’s office, a staffer had a phone interview with a Jessie _Hart_ ,” Keith’s tone started jovial and turned way down dark, as he reached for the juice across the table. “So what I don’t _understand,_ Veronica, is why _you wouldn’t have told me_ about your sudden interest in local politics. Or should I say local _politicians.”_ Switching his line of sight back to his newspaper, Veronica stewed in her father’s disappointment like she’d stepped into a shadow. And then she stepped out.  
  
    “You let me lie to you for _all_ those days?” She asked quietly, peering over the newspaper, remembering the morning she’d checked Jessie’s messages, caught with-holding with the smoking telephone receiver in her hand. “I… started looking into the mayor as a favor for Wallace- the school’s debating cutting funding because-”  
  
    “ _Because_ the mayor’s been lining Mr. Moorehead’s pockets for years, under the pretense of plans of an auditorium, and the second Moorehead’s retired and taken his dirty $10 million someplace sunny with a lax extradition policy, the game changes. The mayor wants a new administration stooge, he’s already threatening Mr. Clemmons with decreased _legitimate_ funds-”  
  
    “Not to mention Clemmons’ll be the one left holding the bag when the scandal breaks-” Veronica interrupted, still reminding herself she was supposed to feel guilty, and winced. “That’s like a dozen broken laws on every side, but for what?” Biting back a quip about bloodhound’s noses being hereditary, Veronica absorbed her father’s glare and kept sniffing, happily. “For _what_ , Dad?” She insisted, softly, bloodhound-puppy eyes sparkling.  
  
    “As far as I can tell, the payments go back six years, to a fundraiser upstate they both attended. I _think_ it’s a payoff that escalated into a sort of partnership with heavy leverage.” Keith put his glass and plate in the sink, eyes still very angry with his teenage daughter, for all her puppy-dogging.  
  
    “Blackmailing a _mayor?_ How did Moorehead find _that_ kind of heavy leverage- what secret’s worth ten million dollars?” Veronica riffed in her head, scrolling through the tips she’d gotten working at the mayor’s office, but she didn’t hear anything especially cash-in worthy. Not for a ten million dollar pay day, anyway.  
  
    “You’re gonna be late, honey.” Keith reminded her, gruffly. “We’re not done talking about this.”  
  
    With a stiff silence between them for a second, Veronica nodded, “Of course we aren’t _ten million-”_ At her father’s disappointed silence, she nodded again, slowly. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; but would you have told me to _follow my nose_ all the way to where the mayor stinks, _big dog?”_ Tense, Veronica let a fresh silence make her point. “I’m careful, I’ll be _more_ careful, I can help, though.” She insisted, knowing in her gut she could have her dad’s back on this one; and he would have her’s.  
  
    “Say, how did you find out about my investigation?” Keith watched his daughter freeze, grabbing her school bag.  
  
    “Gotta go, pops. Clemmons isn’t really fond of having the bells wait for me; but I pitched him really hard on it, I promise.” Kissing her father’s cheek, Veronica smiled up apologetically, and his face softened a bit.  
  
    “Don’t be late.” Something about her dad’s tone didn’t sound like a request to Veronica.

* * *

  
  
    “Is that a twinkle in your eyes, Veronica Mars? A spring in your step?” Logan eyed her stroll into their journalism class while he waited at her desk.  
  
    Pulling Logan down to sit next to her, Veronica heard an exaggerated and disgusted ‘ugh!’ from Madison Sinclair’s part of the room, and decided to say hello to Logan with her tongue. _Well_ … by kissing him. Normally, Veronica’s feet formed clay in the more-public moments of their relationship; quick kisses drew eyeballs even as the school went back to not caring about them as a couple, but _this_ kiss made people look away, and Veronica enjoyed it, interrupted only by Logan’s laugh.  
  
    “Do you always think about Madison when you’re kissing me? Just curious…” Laughing, Logan caught the tips of her hair in his fingertips- it was growing out, longer than the choppy, blunt statement cut of the fall, a little less edgy in the spring.  
  
    “Actually, I was thinking about Clemmons, so ha.” With a guilty shrug, she pulled him closer. “Weevil’s packet combined with my dad’s already-been working this case-”  
  
    “Wait the break-in?” He kept his voice low.  
  
    “No, it’s blackmail and embezzlement-”  
  
    “ _Clemmons?”_ Logan whistled, leaning back.  
  
    Excitedly, Veronica shook her head; not Clemmons. “ _Moorehead,”_ She whispered, wide-eyed as he took it in- half of it, anyway, some salacious details had been cut for time, with the bell threatening to begin class any second.  
  
    “No wonder you have cat-ate-the-canary face this morning,” Logan shook his head. In a list of his interests, school scandal ranked somewhere above general school, but Veronica’s face shone as adorable as it was terrifying.  
  
    “Hey, I checked my mouth for feathers before I left the house,” Veronica shrugged, smiling hard to show him her clean teeth. She’d spent most of the day thinking about how much trouble she was in with her dad, it was a nice break to get to focus on… well, blackmail, embezzlement, and scandal, with the added bonus of her boyfriend. The relief that Clemmons wasn’t involved still disturbed her; and she shook her head. There wouldn’t have been any fun in taking him down, was the conclusion she came to. Moorehead, though? A corrupt mayor? _Wallace’s supposed to play basketball naked so that rich guys can keep their secrets and tax payer money,_ Veronica shook her head. There was comfort in knowing somebody like her dad, who’d seen the worst of the world- the worst of their town, still wanted to right wrongs where he could for people like Clemmons.  
  
    “Mr. Echolls, do I come into your home and put my feet on your furniture?” Ms. Dent prompted, and then the bell rang to start journalism. Veronica had _just_ the story to start following...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is two plot-heavy chapters in a row, but i swear the next one's all fun. (fine, and a little plot)


	13. Regularly Scheduled Interruptions

     His hands folded over Veronica’s ankles in his lap, Logan listened to the clicks of her laptop keys racing, but not fast enough.  _ Homework and studying _ , sure he remembered Veronica saying it, he remembered agreeing to it, as an afterthought of being around her… He’d just sort of hoped it’d be limited and over-quickly  _ homework and studying.  _ Geography book out, in a show of solidarity and effort, her smile encouraging every inch of it, he listened to her key clicks.    
  
    “And…” Veronica hit a few more keys; sprawled across the Echolls’ living room couch, her feet on Logan’s knees, was how she wanted to do every geography assignment from now on. It beat being hunched over her dining room table any day. “Done.” With a satisfied grin, she peeked over her laptop at him. “Now English?” She teased, just to see his reaction.  _ Homework and studying _ had been the Dad-approved cover, and from where Veronica was sitting, she’d held up her end of that bargain. Sliding her laptop from her lap to the floor, Logan shifted on the couch until he was laying on top of her, wedged between her side and the couch's cushions; homework be damned, and most importantly, forgotten.   
  
    “You’re bad for my GPA,” Veronica whispered, and trailed her fingertips down his back, kissing up his neck. “What did I expect though, that whole  _ bad boy  _ image.” She teased, making him roll his eyes as his lips sought hers, finally.    
  
    “Bad boy image?” Logan clicked his tongue, and kissed her again. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Little more than playing innocent, with his hand wandering lower, Veronica’s breath hitched, arching herself up to him, another kiss unbroken. At the unwelcome ring of a cellphone, Veronica was about to huff that her work could wait this once, her dad could wait- but it wasn’t her cell ringing.    
  
    “You’re _here_ \- Dick’s _away_ visiting his mom-  _ so- _ ” Mental math stumped, reaching for his phone, Logan whistled his surprise at the Caller ID and dropped his head to lean on Veronica’s chest. “DK,” He answered the phone sure of himself, but confused at the caller all the same. “So you not taking my calls  _ wasn’t  _ about a new number or you know, sudden-onset amnesia then,” Logan could’ve laughed. Friendships faded and girlfriends died, he got that, but Logan was sore about Duncan’s freeze-out all the same. They’d gone from being inseparable for almost a decade, to being strangers-with-history virtually overnight, and Logan wasn’t convinced all Duncan’s issues centered around Veronica like he kept swearing.   
  
    Softly, Veronica played with the tiny strands of Logan’s hair at the nape of his neck; feeling Logan frown against her at Duncan’s muffled voice over the phone.    
  
   “Look, D, I-” Logan weighed his options, listening to Duncan; home-alone with Veronica was about to win out over hot-and-cold sometimes best friend, but he sounded awful on the phone, and he was asking Logan over to talk. “Yeah, okay man, I’ll see you in a bit.”   
  
    “The prodigal Donut makes his return?” Veronica asked, fingertips still combing through the back of Logan’s hair. Mixed feelings about her romantic history with Duncan aside, Veronica was glad he and Logan were speaking again- even if she certainly didn’t trust the Kanes. The lack of response from Clarence Weidman already had her itching for a good, clean throwdown any minute, and her dealings with the Kanes since hadn't bolstered her opinion of them. Her mind flashed back to her mother, huddled in that dark, dank bar, telling her she was protecting her from the Kanes. But Veronica wasn't her mother, Logan wasn't his father, and Duncan didn't have to be, either; that was what she told herself.   
  
    “Maybe.” Hovering his hand over the side of her stomach, Logan tried to remember if she considered tickling a taserable offence. Stretching to kiss her collarbone instead, it didn’t take long to regret telling Duncan he’d come over. “It sounded like something bad was happening in Camelot.” Logan said, thinking about Duncan’s voice on the phone. Once they’d been close as brothers,  _ closer _ than the family Logan actually had.    
  
    “You should go then,” Veronica missed Logan’s weight on her immediately after he eased off her, but she sat up just the same. “We can do homework another time.” She laughed when he kissed her nose, shaking his head.    
  
    “Next time I say we take the zero in geography and get right to the extracurriculars.”    
  
    “See?” She pointed at him, accusatorily. “Bad-boy.” Smiling, Veronica couldn’t help but wonder  _ what  _ kind of trouble in the Kane household could’ve sent Duncan reaching out to Logan.    
  
    She got home before her dad, and breathed the tiniest sigh of relief for it; as long as he was busy with work, he couldn’t be busy with grounding her for going after the mayor on her own.  _ Technically _ on her own, she reminded herself. Wallace, Weevil, and even Logan had known about the moves on the mayor, and had helped with Clemmons’ office. Sure, working with a gang leader wasn’t going to be a selling point, or anything she could use to defend herself, but not working alone was starting to have it’s perks. Maybe she could pitch them on a team name, like… the  _ Mighty Mars Squad  _  or  _ Veronica’s Guys.  _ Okay, so it was far-fetched, but it kept her from wondering about the Kanes for a few seconds, and it kept her from investigating the mayor for a few seconds. She’d still been coming up empty on a scandal that would’ve paid Moorehead so well, and it was starting to frustrate her. Of course, her dad was on the case too, and she knew he’d  _ definitely  _ object to being relegated mascot of the  _ V. Mars’ Support Team.  _ Her phone rang, shaking her from the ridiculous train of thought, including matching team jackets.   
  
    “Hello?” The number came up restricted, and it should've scared her that her first thought was that _restricted_ meant it’d be untraceable.    
  
    “Honey?” Came the response over the phone, and Veronica was shocked into silence for a second by one of the last voices she expected to hear.    
  
_ “Mom?” _


	14. Old Secrets, New Lives

 “Veronica? Honey, I just needed to talk to you. You know I love you, right?”   
  
     It was definitely her mother’s voice; Veronica sat up ramrod straight on her couch, breathless, and still confused. The _New Horizons Clinic_ had a strict no-visitors policy… but phone calls were allowed? Veronica swallowed her accusations, or tried to, anyway.   
  
    “Mom?” Veronica sighed, and in a small voice she continued, “Where are you right now, Mom?” The program wasn’t supposed to be over for weeks, but Veronica took  deep breath. Maybe phone calls _were_ allowed. _From a restricted number?_ Her brain ticked skeptically, but Veronica shook her head, promising to hear her mother out. Promising herself that this time was different, because her mom was really trying now. Because she’d given up so much already to just let her mom try.   
  
    “Honey… Veronica, I’m better now; you’ll see, I’m… I’m a lot better now, Veronica. Things are going to be different, but listen, I’m going away and I need to talk to you, do you remember what I was saying about the Kanes?”   
  
_How could I forget?_ Veronica scoffed, blinking rapidly to stop tears from welling in her lashes. Her mom was out of the clinic; she knew that, and from her mother’s shaky voice, Veronica was willing to bet her mother wasn’t quite as better as she was swearing.   
  
    “Are you coming home?” With baited breath, Veronica felt the world go still and silent for a second, like the moment she’d discovered her mom gone in the first place. “You aren’t coming home, are you?” Veronica finished for her, and allowed the world to go on turning.   
  
    “I can’t, Veronica, will you listen to me? I just _can’t_ , and I’m doing this for _us,_ honey- don’t you understand that? Can’t you just understand that? I’ve spoken to Jake, and there’s… I can’t be around, Veronica, you need somebody who-”  
  
    “I have Dad.” Through her clenched teeth, Veronica ignored the break in her voice. Her mother wasn’t coming home, wasn’t sober, and things hadn’t changed at all. She’d tried to put her family back together, had found her mom after everything, and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. “I have Dad,” She repeated, more to herself than anything; a reminder, that he’d always been there for her, even when she hadn’t appreciated him.   
  
    “ _Veronica_ I told you, this is important, alright. Be mad at me some other time, blame me some _other_ time. Do you remember what I was saying about Jakey Kane?”   
  
    Visceral anger aside, Veronica had an instantaneous nose-scrunching disgust for the utterance of _Jakey_ Kane, in _that_ tone of her mother’s voice. “You weren’t making any sense that day, Mom. And I found the pictures Clarence Weidman sent you of me; I _know_ you think you have to protect me-”  
  
    “ _Honey_.” Lianne’s voice went a register darker, and Veronica almost smiled at the sound; she remembered being grounded as a little kid in that tone of voice- she remembered being told to eat her vegetables in that tone of voice- she remembered her mom caring enough to scold her. “I’m going to tell you something, that I should’ve told you a long time ago, but you’re old enough to understand now. To understand that I was only _protecting_ you, Veronica, this was all to _protect_ you and Keith; I love you both, so much, do you know that? But I’m afraid, I’m sorry, honey, It’s… not really that simple, Veronica. I know you _think,_ I know you must _think_ everything’s fixable, but sometimes, life is just _life_ and…” Lianne sighed, “Do you remember telling me about Duncan Kane asking you out for ice cream?”   
  
    “I was _so_ excited and you were just…” Veronica thought back to that night, to agonizing over what dress to wear, what clips looked cutest in her hair, and calling Lilly every twenty minutes to make sure it was all _really_ happening. Duncan Kane, had asked her out, _out_ out. Shaking her head, Veronica couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn those stupid butterfly clips in her hair. “That was one of the first nights you were really… _sick_.” She euphemised, remembering her dad coming home late from work, and Lianne passed out on their old couch, clutching a cold, empty bottle.   
  
    “You were so tickled, giggling and primping, I couldn’t break your heart. _Celeste_ always wanted me to break your hearts. I did everything I could to protect you, baby, remember that?” Lianne’s voice hit that low register again, and Veronica wasn’t sure where the deal-with-the-Kanes story was headed next.  From a lifetime ago, Veronica remembered Lilly laughing, talking about _Celeste_ in that tone of voice, saying she’d break them up if she could.   
  
    “No one was ever supposed to _know_ , Veronica; the deal was _no one_ would ever know. But Jake and I have decided...” Lianne’s voice shook, and Veronica held her phone so tight to her face the top of her ear hurt. “I know I’ve made mistakes, honey,” Lianne’s voice cracked, and she sniffled a second, “but I love you, I never wanted you to find out any of this, but you need to know _why_  I haven’t been there, honey, why you deserve better. Don’t you understand?”   
  
    A tear fell from her chin onto her lap, making a small wet  spot on her jeans; Veronica took a long second swiping away another tear from her cheek, desperately hoping it wasn’t anything like it sounded. It sounded a lot to Veronica like her mother was drunk again, clearing her conscience or making some kind of amends, or just taking the scraps of normalcy in her life from her one by one.  
  
    “What are you saying?”   
  
    Rubbing her face, Lianne remembered bringing home a tiny, pink baby, cooing and laughing, wrapping her tiny hands around Keith Mars’ thumb and knowing that what she’d done would never matter to him; she never imagined having to explain it to that laughing bundle.   
  
    “The deal I made with the Kanes….” Lianne struggled, her voice gone raw. “Was that I’d never sue them for child support, you’d never seek the Kane fortune that you’re entitled to, and Jake Kane would never take you away from me,” Lianne cried into the phone, her darkest secrets splayed to her only child, and waited for Veronica to say something, to say anything.  
  
    Veronica sat shocked, frozen, left contemplating that this was actually what a stroke felt like, or an aneurysm, or a nervous breakdown, or a hallucination or-  
  
    “Are you saying…” Veronica felt her bottom lip shaking uncontrollably, and she mentally chided herself for it; everyday she uncovered people’s worst misdeeds, why shouldn’t her life be testament to someone’s worst secret?  “Mom, _who_ is my father?”   
  
    “Veronica, no one’s taking your dad away from you, honey, none of this even _matters_ anymore-”  
  
    “Who is my _father_?” Veronica yelled into the phone, breathless, finally succumbing to the wet sob she’d been putting off.   
  
    “Jake Kane is your biological father, Veronica. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry you had to-”  
  
   “I’m gonna be sick,” Veronica leapt off the couch, dropping the phone clear away from her. One hand against the back of the toilet, the other loosely holding blonde hair back from dangling over her face, Veronica dry-heaved, feeling dizzy and nauseous until she finally emptied her stomach with a wretch. For a second, the thought of those stupid butterfly clips with their bouncy-spring wings came to the front of her mind; her, skipping off with her _half brother on a date_ and jesus-fucking-christ, Veronica found herself on the Celeste Kane side of an argument. That’s exactly when she knew her life was messed up; officially, for good.   
  
    Her dad’s toothbrush on the sink’s edge caught her eye- and her dad, her dad, her dad. _I have Dad,_ she’d reminded herself all of five minutes ago- and even that simple law of the universe was no longer valid. _Blame me another time_ , Lianne’s voice looped in Veronica’s head, until the thought made her more dizzy than the nausea.   
  
    Crawling from the bathroom, Veronica ignored Back Up’s concerned whines and found her cell phone, with the call still going. “Mom?” She didn’t expect her to still be there, wherever _there_ even was.  
  
    “I’m so sorry, Veronica, I-”  
  
    With a snap, Veronica closed the phone and cried to herself, her head tucked down between her knees, and she felt lost. As lost as the day her mother left, all those months ago, as lost as the day Lilly died, as lost as she’d ever felt without any of the answers.   
  
    Grabbing her keys, Veronica ran the wrist of her sleeve under her eyes, unsure of everything in her. All her life, the goodness in her had come from Keith Mars, that was still true in her heart. Veronica gripped the steering wheel of her car until her knuckles went white, and she still couldn’t get herself to stop crying. Another five minutes in the Kanes’ driveway, and Veronica had finally had it with everyone pretending and lying and keeping truth from her. Keeping her truth from her. Mayor Goodman and Principal Moorhead’s ten million dollar scandal was suddenly chump change, suddenly a microscopic event in the world, because just on the surface, the sheer existence of another Kane heir was major scandal. And on any other day, Veronica would’ve loved to see Jake Kane exposed, the Kanes’ exposed; but now, her entire life hung in the balance of Jake Kane not being who she thought he was.   
  
    Ringing the doorbell, Veronica stood on the doorstep, blinking in the feeling of being the discarded little kid, left on the doorstep. Her heart pumping hard, Veronica tried to quiet it, tried to tell herself that _hysterical_ wasn’t the card she wanted to play here, but Duncan answered the door and Veronica steadied her jaw, even as tears swelled against her will.   
  
    “Did you _know?”_ The thought came to her in an instant; he’d dumped her all those months ago for some unknown, mysterious, Duncan reason, he’d wished her evaporated without an explanation. Staring into his face, Veronica sniffled a second, until she felt the warm rush of rage all over again. “Did you _know_ about our parents?”  
  
    “Veronica? Are you okay?” Logan called over Duncan’s shoulder, and brushed past the doorway to get to her, swiping the tear down her cheek with his thumb. “What’s wrong, what is it?”   
  
    With a deep breath, Veronica pulled her arms to her sides, to hold herself together; to keep at least _herself_ whole.


	15. Waking Up in the Poolhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be real, canon-typical discussion of Veronica's rape (incest warnings all over the damn place for this chapter)

    When the doorbell rang, Logan felt an odd sort of apprehension, and at Veronica’s voice he grew worried. Pushing past Duncan, he found Veronica crying, visibly shaken and upset, and in all the worst ways Logan’s stomach dropped.   
  
   “What’s wrong, what is it?” He asked, and watched her steel herself.   
  
    Veronica looked to Duncan, still unsure of how much he knew, and when he knew what, exactly. They’d dated for- _nope,_ Veronica felt bile rise to the back of her throat again, and she remembered Logan puking his guts out into his front garden; she was about to reprieve that fond memory all over the Kanes’ lovely lawn.   
  
    “Your mom _told you_ , didn’t she?” Veronica’s mind tried to clamor it’s way back to objectivity- to get her back to where the private investigator in her could _sniff_ out the secret like her dad had said. _Her dad_ , Veronica’s heart still pounded. “My mom just called, and she said your mom always wanted to- to- to tell us.” She swallowed, but her anger still warmed her cheeks- still warmed her blood, and pitched her voice higher. “Your mom told you and that’s why you broke up with me in the first place, without even speaking to me. Why wouldn’t you just-”  
  
    “I wanted to!” Duncan exploded, and then quieted himself, eyes flitting to the outside streets, and then settling back on Logan and Veronica. “ _How_ was I supposed to tell you-”  
  
    “Are you two speaking in tongues, here? What’s going on?” Logan heard all the words being physically said, he just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be filling the gaps in with. The way Veronica’s hands were shaking against his freaked him out. “Hello? Someone take me off the short bus.” Logan pushed strands of Veronica’s hair from clinging to her face, and the tremble in her lip really scared him.   
  
    Knowing it, knowing something unspeakable and actually speaking it were two different things; Veronica knew that. She watched her dad’s clients take that leap of faith everyday, jumping into the next chapter of their life, because there wouldn’t be any going back.   
  
    “Duncan _broke up_ with me because I’ _m his sister!”_ Veronica swatted the air, beyond really hoping for this to be a nightmare. Totally _over_ this being a bad dream, and right into the next phase of scorching earth until it made her feel better. Without a paternity test, Veronica wasn’t ready to take her mother’s word for anything anymore, but she was beyond thinking it was impossible. The revelation that she’d dated her maybe half-brother, that he’d always kept their relationship chaste, and sweet, and pure- Veronica’s stomach turned again. All of that sweetness and purity tinged putrid, turned ugly. “My mom and his dad have apparently been keeping secrets between them for twenty years and apparently this one’s only even out because there’s money involved! Like I could possibly _want_ anything from you people.” Tone gone vicious, Veronica was prepared to face her biggest betrayal yet; her entire life spent as an only-child and her _only brother_ had decided to keep their parents’ secret, too.   
  
    “What the fuck? You’re siblings?” Logan sputtered; _definitely gonna need another turn on that short bus._ “You’re half fucking _siblings_ , and you fucking _knew?”_ Looking to Duncan, Logan kept his hands on Veronica, on the way she was shaking, with anger or sadness or even just shock. _Half fucking siblings._ Neptune had it’s dirty laundry, it’s scandal, it’s undercurrent of grime and sleaze and even fucking murder, but _this?_  
  
    “I ended it _right_ after my mom told me, Veronica. I loved you, so much-” Duncan cried, anger rising in his voice- “I didn’t want you to have to deal with this _fucked_ up thing on top of… and Lilly! Was supposed to help you get _over_ me and Logan, well- Logan’s finally done that right, hasn’t he?” Yelling now, Duncan slapped his hand against the side of the house, still standing in Kane doorway. “If I kept it a secret, you’d never have to know and then you’d never hate me for-” Duncan trailed off.  
  
    “For _what?_ ” Veronica felt her stomach drop again, and didn’t like the way Duncan’s gaze twisted away from her.   
  
    “You know… Shelley’s party,” Duncan murmured, nodding his head like she’d fill in the blanks.  
  
    Except Veronica’s mind only came up blank; Shelley’s party was the big, gaping hole in her memory- her one wild night when everything had gone from fucking-terrible to rock-goddamn-bottom.   
  
    “I don’t remember _anything_ from Shelley’s party- someone drugged me and- somebody-” She froze.  “You _raped_ me?” Veronica’s voice shook, every syllable hurt to ground out. “ _You_ , Duncan?” Her voice went softer, until her blood boiled again. She approached every case with a rolodex of suspects, and she’d approached her rape the same way. She’d suspected almost anyone at that party would’ve done it to her- but she hadn’t suspected _Duncan._  
  
    “He what?” Logan’s voice went hard in an instant, every last wing and prayer of a _DK-Logan Echolls_ _Reunion Tour_ evaporated eternally. “ _You raped your sister?”_ Swinging first, it annoyed Logan when Duncan didn’t fight back or defend himself; his fist connected with Duncan’s face twice before Duncan even put his hands up.  
  
    “I didn’t… how could you _say_ that, Veronica?” Finally fighting back, Duncan pushed Logan away, taking a charged step towards Veronica, mitigated by her stepping away from him. That’s how it would be from now on, she’d always be stepping away from him. “I… I told you I loved you,” Duncan threatened to break down, threatened to really lose it.   
  
    “I don’t _remember_ it, Duncan; you didn’t notice I was _unconscious?”_ Breathless, Veronica felt like puking all over again. She remembered waking up alone, in Shelley’s poolhouse, and she remembered cutting her hair later- because she was different. Because someone had taken something from her. She remembered waking up in that poolhouse, shocked, hurt, and confused, and instantaneously she'd been taken back there all over again.   
  
    “You were… _out_ of it, yeah, but Veronica, I’m not a _rapist-_ ”  
  
    “You raped _me!_ ” She cried out, looking up into his face like she hadn’t dared to moments ago, and Logan realized his punches couldn’t touch Duncan in the way her voice pitched that high could.   
  
    The three of them stood, all shell-shocked by one revelation after another, until Veronica’s red-rimmed eyes found Logan’s.   
  
    “Logan, would you please drive me home?” Her voice came quietly, more Old-Veronica sounding, and _god_ she looked so tired to him.   
  
     “Of course.” Came his reply, quiet as hers. His knuckles itched for more of Duncan’s blood on them, but Veronica looked like she needed him more, and it stunned him. Without him, yes, Veronica Mars would’ve been fine, she would’ve been great, she would’ve walked her butch boots all the way home if she had to, and she’d steel herself from the turn of the world again. Instead of hurting her now, Logan wanted to jump at the chance to help her.   
  
    Veronica didn’t look back at Duncan as they walked away; she set her jaw, and promised herself she’d stop crying, but she didn’t dare look back to see him standing there, fucking _confused_ of all things.   
  
    “Veronica…” In his car, Logan couldn’t help but think of the last time he’d met her at the Kanes’. The night they’d discovered his father murdered Lilly, and the night he’d confessed he’d fallen in love with his sworn enemy. “I’m… so sorry.”  
  
    Nodding stiffly, Veronica folded her arms in on herself in the passenger seat; how could she go home, now? “Do you mind if I… That is, if it’s okay....” In the aftermath of being a _maybe-_ Kane and definite rape victim, Veronica was in possibly the least trusting mood she’d ever been in. Logan nudged her with his elbow, just a light tap like when they were kids- younger, and freer, and lighter. “Could I stay over tonight? I just… My dad…” The word caught in her throat. He’d still love her, he was still her dad no matter what- _that_ she didn’t have to be in a trusting mood to believe- but Veronica sat with the weight that her life’s mission to expose truth, to root out betrayal, had been problematic from the get-go.   
  
    With a sigh, Logan tasted ashes in his mouth, and wasn’t sure where to start.   
  
    “There’s… something you should know first, though.” Logan _felt_ her tense up next to him, and oh god, he hated that it felt _familiar_ , of all things. They’ve been _together_ now, and everything’s on the line this time- not just friendship, not just enemies-turned-confused. He’d promised her that night in the car that he’d stop being the villain, and Logan wasn’t sure if past misdeeds fell under an exact grand-father clause. She’d been lied to, and raped, and lied to again, and all he wanted was for his truth to be better than it was.  “The night of… that night at Shelley’s party-” Logan’s mind flashed back to it, even with his skin crawling, knowing he hadn’t been the worst thing to happen to her that night. “We- _I_ , you were really drunk, and still laughing,” _Still_ _awake_ he didn’t dare say, he didn’t even dare to think about it. “But you need to know, me, and some of the other guys saw it as an opportunity to mess with you, we.. we used you as a salt lick, I did, and I’m so sorry. I wanted to hurt you then, but I never want you to hurt again, okay, Veronica? All I want to do is go back to that night and get you the fuck out of there, make sure no one ever hurts you.” Heart pounding in his chest, Logan braved a look at her, sideways.  
  
    “Thank you, for telling me.” She didn’t remember much from that night, apparently a turn as a salt lick included. “Please just promise me Dick Casablancas’ tongue never touched me in any way.” Her voice got lighter, a half-joke in an attempt at moving on. At least for the night; her head pounded, and her stomach was twisted into vile knots. Mostly, Veronica felt like laying down in Logan’s cloud-like bed and waking up only when every person she’d ever met was long, long dead.   
  
    “I promise you, Dick Casablancas’ tongue never touched you in any way.” With his hands, Logan signed _scout’s honor_ , and finally let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Now Casa de Echolls?” He asked, unsure, in the wake of his confession. She’d joked, like things were okay, but what if they weren’t? What if he’d wrecked everything by being an ass for a year straight?  
  
    “If it’s okay?” Veronica linked their pinkies, like when they were kids. “There’s a lot I need to process, before I… tell my dad, and I just don’t know if I can do it in front of him, you know? I’ll call and say I’m staying with Wallace or something. You’re firmly on the no-sleepover list. Told you, that whole bad-boy image; gets you every time.” Her voice was still shaky, still not up to it’s usually sarcastic muster. They weren’t the answers she’d wanted, ever, her life had been rocked from it’s foundation, a fresh tornado tore through, it seemed. But she had something to cling to, this time; she looked down at their intertwined pinkies.   
  
_What if you don’t tell him?_ Logan left the question unasked, he just nodded. It was her nature, she had to tell her dad; and she’d survive that, too, even if she did look a little dinged up, to him.   
  
   “Of course.” He said again, still speaking softly. “I think you’re the bravest person I know, Veronica Mars.” Granted, Logan’s mind reeled with names of cowards he knew- his father, his mother, Logan counted himself. But Veronica Mars survived him, and she kept surviving.   
  
    “Do you remember the first time I came to school with my hair cut?” She actually attempted a smile, the vicious snarls at her new look had bolstered her new confidence that day. “You said I must’ve asked for the Prom-Queen-Reject cut, and gotten the Blonde-Bimbette’s-Special instead.” Veronica almost laughed, thinking about it now. Hell, she’d laughed then.   
  
    “Why do you _remember_ that?” Logan shuddered; he’d always loved her long hair, but it was short-hair Veronica that undid him.   
  
    Stretching her pinky, Veronica reached for his whole hand, her breath inhaling as a sniffle in the silence.   
  
    “Take me to bed, Logan.” Not a question, but not a demand, Veronica leaned her head on his shoulder across the car, light moments giving way to fresh grief over her life’s new backstory. Her life’s new trauma. The added levels of betrayal that just kept the knife and the plot twisting.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so obviously, we've all read a million different versions of these conversations and every single one hurts. to this day, the way the show handled Veronica's rape(s) makes me endlessly upset, because i don't think especially fictionally rape should ever be a discussion where "well what if there were two sides!" is really ever relevant? and especially w/ Duncan we got an actual two seconds of screentime where V confronted him and then was immediately made to feel guilty about it. i knew this chapter was gonna need to be in this fic, i just hope i handled it halfway gracefully. as always, thanks for reading


	16. Sorry, the Five Letter Word

   Veronica climbed into the big bed, jeans off, and pulled the big, soft blanket to her chin. The lights were soft in Logan’s room, she’d never noticed that before. The rest of the world was this harsh, unforgivable place, lighting up her weak spots with hot, bright lights, but there, Veronica almost felt safe. She smiled to herself in his bed; she’d confronted her best friend’s killer there, she shook her head. But that was how she was, that was _who_ she was- what had Logan said? The bravest person he knew… Blinking her eyes closed for only seconds, Veronica took comfort in those words for only a few moments. She definitely didn’t feel brave, mostly- she hadn’t felt brave when Aaron Echolls had a gun on her, and she didn’t feel brave hiding from her dad. The bravest person in her life was her dad, and with a weak sob Veronica opened her eyes again, to see Logan back from the bathroom, leaning against his doorframe just watching her, apparently.  
  
    “Do you want me to… I can take the guest bed, but I can do the floor if you don’t…” _Want to wake up alone,_ Logan could barely think of her like _that_ , waking up alone and afraid, and he definitely couldn’t vocalize the visual.  
  
    “Stay.” Veronica waved him over sleepily, shaking a shudder from her shoulders. Even a year of bad-to-worsts, Shelley’s party had been a dark spot- a mystery that living through the dark, shadowy flashbacks couldn’t solve, but apparently Duncan Kane could have, all along. Band-aids ripped off, and salt in every wound, Veronica ached, but the mystery had been solved.  
  
    Grabbing a pillow from his side of the bed, Logan set up shop on the floor next to her side. _It was his turn,_ he mused; a time he could finally pay her back for staying over after he’d punched that poor excuse for a journalist.  
  
    “Actually, I meant…” Veronica shifted across the bed, scooting from one end over just a little, just enough for a Logan-shaped person to fit between her and the edge. It was a dangerous area, she could admit it; she'd been traumatized for a year though, and everyone who could hurt her already did.  
  
     “Veronica…” Leaning over her, Logan couldn’t help but think of the nasty things he’d said to her last year. Everything in him hoped she wasn’t reliving those taunts, too; half-heartedly Logan tried to explain it to himself, that if he’d _known_ she was a victim, he wouldn’t have been so… Bond-villain-esque, he would've put down the monocle and the wiry moustache and he would've just been her friend. But he wasn’t even sure that was remotely true. He’d been so angry with her, and she’d always given him that _look_ that nothing he did could get to her.  
  
     _Because someone else already did the worst thing imaginable to her, and I felt the need to pile my jackass on._ “I’m not sure if…” He started, but she lifted the blankets like a tent to make room for him. “I’m so sorry, Veronica. I wish I could take back all last year.” Slipping into the bed next to her, they faced each other, Logan’s eyes only meeting her lips. Every apology he'd ever exchanged with his dad had been either lip-service or a bargaining chip; Logan barely believed in  _sorries_ or  _forgiveness_ and he knew Veronica barely believed in concepts like that, either. He just hoped she knew how much he meant it, how truly deeply he wished he could unsay every rotten thing or undo every cruel action.  
  
    “I know.” She whispered, moving just an inch closer.  
  
    “How do you know?” He whispered back, smiling at her if just to spite their whole world. Veronica Mars knew everything, didn't she? _Almost everything_ , he winced. Wanting to touch her, to brush his fingertips over her temples or wrap her in his arms, Logan reminded himself that she’d learned today that all her boundaries had been crossed- by the love of her life, who turned out to be her half-brother. The mental image alone was enough to stave off physical contact. Mostly, he just hoped she wasn’t afraid of him.  
  
    “Because I wouldn’t.” Still awake, her voice was weighed-down with impending sleep, and she moved just a hair closer to him. “I’m not… _wired_ to forgive and forget, Logan. But I _remember_ every single thing that you did to me,” She met his eyes, “and I _chose_ to forgive you for all of them. Duncan… Duncan thought he could let me forget and that it’d make him forgiven…” Instinctively, Veronica broke the touch barrier, reaching for Logan and pressing her cheek to his chest.  
  
   Slowly, he eased his arm around her, and released his breath.  
  
    "You're not going to break me," She whispered against his chest, pulling herself deeper into his arms.  
  
      _How can you be so sure?_ Logan swallowed the lump in his throat, remembering her as the sunny pre-teen she'd been when she was untouchable. He'd tortured her, Duncan raped her, and Lilly died on her, and Veronica had been left to pick up every piece of herself after they'd broken her. Huffing against his chest, she accidentally reminded him she was far from broken.  
  
      “Oh, and my mom’s off the wagon. Pretty sure she called me drunk, actually. Probably the only way she could do it.” Veronica winced into his T-shirt, almost sorry for a second- but she’d said it, she wasn’t wired to forgive and forget, and blood relatives meant less to her then than ever before. “Got any get-rich-quick schemes laying around I could use to pay for Stanford?” Her eyes were closing, she could feel it; any second the day would finally be over, and then she’d wake up and tomorrow would happen. His leg hair tickled her knees, but she didn't move an inch away.  
  
    “I don’t know… Maybe marry rich; some trust-fund kid who’s head-over-heels for you,” Logan teased, feeling her chuckle against him.  
  
    “ _Maybe_ , but where would I find one?” Teasing back in only a murmur, Veronica let her eyes close for real, welcoming sleep at last.


	17. Wherefore Art Thou A Mars?

        "Sure you don't want to come and watch this?" Veronica's hand hovered on the door's handle. Logan's family life was one TMZ-special-episode-dumpster-fire after another, but Veronica was feeling her own family slowly getting pulled into the soap opera arena. Incest, false paternity, drinking problems left and right, and decades-old secrets being lugged out into the open; Veronica’s little Neptune bared it’s Hollywood teeth.

 

    They'd fallen asleep together, her nestled against his side, and despite his worst fears, they'd woken up together, too. Logan didn't want to send her into her dad's office alone- to face him, the question of her paternity, and the weight of her world all at once. But it needed to be a private conversation, and the last thing Logan wanted to do was detract from that privacy. Not to mention, Keith Mars was the one person Veronica relied on most in the world- and even Logan had to trust her judgement on that.

 

    He shook his head, smiling when Veronica leaned her cheek into his goodbye kiss, "Three would be a crowd in there, babe. I can wait right here if you-"

 

    Veronica shook her head with her chin high, and Logan didn't have to think hard to recognize the expression on her face. The world had popped her tires, but that didn't mean it got to destroy her.

 

   "It’ll be fine. Hey dad, can I borrow a quick hair sample, it's for a school project where we find out who our biological parents are; _right_." Even her fake smile devastated, and she chided herself for still stalling. "I get it now," she added softly, just for him. "Hating one of your parents for hurting the other. Really takes the sting out of all the betrayal."

 

    Veronica left the car, and put one of her feet in front of the other, until she was at the door of Mars' Investigations. That feeling of being on the Kanes' doorstep? All but disappeared, once she turned the door's handle.

 

    "Dad?" She called, mock-bravado from the car dissipating into authentic-apprehension. For once, she had the facts, she had the secrets, she had the admissions from the guilty parties, but it didn't help her know what came next.

 

     "Honey? Why aren't you in class, Veronica?" Putting himself firmly in the cool-dad column, Keith still wasn't about to sanction hooky, even for his favorite kid.

 

    "I wasn't feeling well today." Veronica figured that was at least true, her stomach hadn't stopped turning overnight. "And, I need to talk to you about something." She sighed. "Your guns will not be necessary, but you may find them useful; them, or you know, a _divorce lawyer_." She trailed her voice off to herself, and eased onto the office couch. Her dad broke out the worried-dad face, and Veronica's stomach squirmed again.

 

    "What's this about, Veronica?" Without the usual amount of humor in his face, Veronica barely recognized her dad.

 

    "I lied to you about spring break; I was mad that you weren't looking for Mom, so I _did_ , and I actually _found_ her- stupid _Roarin' Ripley's_." She shook her head.

 

    "Oh, honey, I didn't want you to- Veronica, I _told_ you-"

 

    With her hand, Veronica stopped her dad from going in for the comfort-hug, "Wait, wait, let me _finish_." The plea in her voice cut both of them, and Veronica cleared it from her throat. "So I tracked her down at the bar, and I checked her into somewhere I thought would help her stop drinking, because she was _drunk_ when we found her and not making any sense. I thought it would help us be a family again." Choking on either a laugh or a sob, Veronica pressed on like either was irrelevant, "When we found her, she was drunk and kept talking about a _deal_ with the _Kanes_ , of all _people-_ "

 

    "Veronica, stop," Her dad interrupted.

 

    "But you don't..." Veronica faced her dad, and forced her lips to keep moving, "She was telling me then, that she made a deal with the Kanes about _me_ , and last night she called my cell and she told me that Jake Kane-"

 

   "Veronica, _stop!_ " Keith insisted, and pulled his daughter into a tight hug. "She shouldn't have told you that way; you shouldn't have to face what your parents are afraid to." Keith pulled back from the hug, but kept his hands on Veronica's. "Before we even brought you home, your mother told me that _biologically_ you weren't...mine." Keith's voice broke at Veronica's gasp.  
  
    Giving her a second, Keith waited for some of the muscles in his daughter’s face to soften, to unfreeze. Fighting off a bout of fresh nausea and fresh rage, Veronica waited for her dad to continue, even as she wished he would stop.  
  
     "She never told me... _who_ , just that they would never be in the picture- and I never _asked_ ; it was never about that, I didn't care, from the beginning- from the first moment you were in this world you were my daughter, you were a Mars, alright, Veronica? From the first second… You had about three hairs on your head and you made projectile vomiting an adorable activity. I love you more than anything in this life, I'd give up my life for yours, Veronica, and I wish your mother wouldn't have told you this way. It wasn't until after you and Duncan broke up, after Lilly's murder, until your mom wanted me to stop going after Jake Kane, and I wouldn't listen, that I realized. She never told me outright, but she hinted, and then she left. I never... you shouldn't have had to find out this way, honey. I love you, Veronica, I always have- you're a Mars, kiddo; who's your daddy?" Smiling through his tears, Keith hugged his daughter again, and laughed at her muffled _'you are'_ into his shoulder. "How do you feel?"

 

     _Well, I was raped by the half-brother I dated for a year, and if that wasn't enough, surprise! I have Jake Kane's genes. The one bright-spot remains to be that Lilly probably would’ve gotten a kick out of being biological half-sisters. Somewhere, she’s looking down at me laughing at the chaos my birth created for Celeste Kane._

  
    "On a sliding scale of _it's my birthday_ to _my best friend being murdered,_ I'd say somewhere in the middle? I don't... think Mom's coming back. At least not for awhile." The scene in Roarin' Ripley's came to mind- and as much as Veronica didn't want her mom in places like that, she wasn't totally sure she wanted her home again, either.  
  
    “Hey we’ve held our own without her, right?” Keith nudged Veronica, and watched her tears dry like they had when she was a little kid. “I know you missed your mom, sweetie, but I don’t think she can be the best thing for you now, especially now. So next time when I ask you to stay away from something, will you please stay away from it?” He had to try, even though no Mars could promise him that. “Speaking of, you remember how I said to stay away from the Moorehead scandal, right?”  
  
    “Stay away… from a ten million dollar scandal involving a mayor and a high school principal…” Veronica pretended to think back, “ _Stay away_ doesn’t ring a bell, nope.”  
  
    Glad to be out of the paternity-woods, Veronica felt her breath come and go more easily, she felt her impending stroke get less urgent. Her mom wasn’t coming home, she still had her dad, and maybe that way things would be okay. Well, south of okay; she’d been raped by her surprise half-brother, someone she once trusted- and that wouldn’t be okay in a hurry. But she’d nursed wounds before, she was sure she could at least multitask while she did it again. And a panacea for most her big traumas last time had been other people’s secrets...  
  
    “Well, only in this instance should you ignore my very wise fatherly advice, in favor of my _new_ very wise fatherly advice.” Checking her face, making sure she was ready to get back into work, he recognized his daughter, again. Somebody who preferred the truth over lies, and who believed in justice- even if she was a little hardcore and scarily Old Testament for such a tiny, unassuming teenager. “We’re going after the Moorehead scandal,” He watched her face light up.  
  
    “Ooh, I _like_ when we go after people. You know what they say, pops, the bigger their heads, the harder they fall when we,” She mimed cutting off her own head. “You know.”  
  
     _“Cautiously.”_ Keith kissed his Veronica’s forehead, and they both exhaled a bit. “We’re going after the Moorehead scandal _cautiously.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew!


	18. Where Your Loyalties Lie

    Impatiently, Logan rang the Kanes’ doorbell five, six, seven times, furiously pressing the glowing button until Duncan appeared at the door. Making sure Veronica was okay, was ready to stay with her dad and have that difficult talk, came first- in his mind, Veronica being okay came first. But after that, second to that, all Logan could think about on the drive away from Mars’ Investigations, was Shelley’s party. He  _ barely _ remembered it, he barely remembered  _ most _ of the period right after Lilly’s death; he’d been drunk and stoned and too blasted to want to care about anything, especially Veronica. With a turn of his stomach, he remembered being angry she was there that night, half-angry she was alive, even, and he remembered sliding his tongue up her neck in another attempt to embarrass her, another attempt to punish her. He remembered Duncan coming over after that, one of the only times he’d stepped in between Logan and his mission to destroy Veronica Mars. Feeling sick, Logan remembered Duncan carrying Veronica off; so when Duncan finally opened the door, Logan swung his fist, wild with rage.   
  
    “Your  _ sister? _ ”    
  
     “It wasn’t even  _ like _ that,” Duncan pushed Logan back, ducked away from another incoming punch. “Besides, I didn’t  _ rape _ her, we… we were  _ both  _ there. And it’s not like you were  _ so great  _ to Veronica, that night or  _ any  _ night before you two started-”    
  
    Once Logan heard more than enough, he had a new message to convey to his one-time best friend;  _ stay away from Veronica Mars.  _ A message he intended to get to stick, even as Duncan’s mouth started dripping blood, all Logan could think of was a Veronica who couldn’t fight back, couldn’t stand up for herself, against him or Duncan or any of them, and how they’d all taken advantage of that; Duncan just in the worst way Logan could imagine.   


* * *

  
  
    Sifting through a decade of Moorehead’s bank statements and financial records kept Veronica’s mind on desk duty for the day; she’d highlighted transactions that were sketchy, that would need more investigation. For the most part, her dad stayed close, kept to the office with her, until he went out to the Camelot for a case, and Veronica stayed to close up the office for the night. Personal mysteries and secrets aside, Veronica planned on shaking Moorehead’s hand for keeping her busy enough to keep her mind off her own scandals for nearly a whole day. Whenever she’d felt Jake Kane sneaking into her thoughts, or her mother’s face in _Roarin’ Ripley’s_ , Veronica squared her shoulders and opted instead to highlight indiscretions in Moorehead’s financial paper trail.   
  
   But out of the office, after she’d shut the lights and drove herself home, Veronica couldn’t bury her thoughts in paperwork any longer. Stepping out of the shower, feeling every droplet of water from her hair down her back, all Veronica could manage was to quietly seethe. At her mother, at Jake Kane, at Duncan- when she could even think of Duncan.   
  
   The night of Lilly’s murder, remained the worst night of Veronica’s life; it was the thing that changed everything- the catalyst for every trace of badness after it. But waking up confused, groggy, sore, and half-naked in Shelley Pomroy’s poolhouse; came a close second in the ranking list of _worsts._   
  
   More than raped her, Duncan knew their shared secret for months, and hadn’t said a word about it.   
  
    Running her hands through her wet hair, Veronica pulled in a fresh sob, remembering deciding to remake herself after the rape. After her rape, and Lilly’s murder, and her dad losing his Sheriff’s badge- Veronica remade herself with that haircut, and settling into her New Veronica skin had taken time, but looking herself in the eye in the mirror, she’d done it.   
  
   And even being a Kane wasn’t going to take away that feeling once she’d found it.   
  
   A knock on the door disturbed her thoughts, and as much as it was welcome, it was unexpected. The visitor, even moreso.   
  
   “Logan?” Veronica opened the door in her bathrobe, thrown by the bruising on Logan’s face and the blood on his knuckles and shirt. “Tell me you didn’t…”  
  
   Leaning into her doorway, Logan couldn’t help but grin at her, he just couldn’t help it.   
  
  “That silent treatment, clean-walkaway-style break up really just wasn’t for me and Duncan, you know?” Stepping in, Logan was a little relieved that he didn’t see Keith around, even if it made him uneasy to think of Veronica left alone. “We decided to end things with a trip to the hospital; well, I decided to end things by sending him on a trip to the hospital.” With an innocent shrug, Logan couldn’t find a stitch of regret in his being, and he tried to gauge her reaction to that.   
  
    A kiss to her forehead, Logan’s smile deflated a little, until he noticed her smiling back.   
  
    “Did he… say anything?” While not completely stunned, Veronica was a little breathless and taken aback. She’d seen the kind of loyalty Logan was capable of- even after her death, Logan kept trying to protect Lilly. Mostly though, Veronica watched his loyalty at play for Duncan, and the guy who’d once given her hell every day, who’d popped her tires and tried to torment her out of existence, really disappeared before her eyes, once and for all.   
  
    “He tried to ‘ _explain’_ the ‘ _situation’_ at Shelley’s party,” Logan air-quoted, his tone spiked with anger.  
  
     Hating Veronica, punishing her for still being alive, for still surviving without any of them, Logan  _thought_ explained Veronica's transformation into a tough, battle-tested girl with a weapon of a mouth and taser, to boot. Looking back, with the knowledge of her rape, her family's thinly veiled turmoil, and everything else that weighed Veronica down, Logan realized he'd only been one more obstacle to that girl; that thinking he played any significant role in New Veronica's edge was probably a self-absorbed thought. She'd had more on her plate than popped tires and schoolyard taunts; he'd compiled trauma with the daily-grind of existing  _as_ herself, and he looked at her then, sorry for all of it moreso.  
  
   “What’d you say to that?” Veronica winced, remembering the talk she’d had with Lamb the morning she’d tried to report her rape. Preemptively, to avoid any he-said-she-said conflicts, or just because he was an asshole, Lamb shrugged off her request for an investigation. Rape remained the only crime where a victim’s testimony just wasn’t good enough, and that stung Veronica for a long time, and was one reason among many she hadn't told anyone about the rape.   
  
    “I asked if he wanted to borrow my phone,” Logan’s smile brightened deceptively at Veronica’s confused popped eyebrow. “You know, to call somebody who wanted to hear his bullshit.”  
  
   With a laugh that was half a sigh of relief, Veronica pressed her lips to Logan’s cut up knuckles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not gonna lie to you, this chapter was therapeutic for me, but we're gonna get fun from here on out. probably. maybe. probably.


	19. Already in the Aftermath

Months ago, the first day they'd hit the campus courtyard as a couple, fingers linked between classes and stealing kisses in the girls’ bathroom, the student population had a myriad of reactions. Some took it as a joke, some people thought it made complete sense for their fighting to turn sexual, and some classmates just gave themselves over to wild speculation and unsubstantiated rumor; no guess too outlandish for how Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars ended up a romantic item. But that first reveal did have a level of shock value- the masses hadn't suspected it, there'd been no overt warning signs it was coming- and it had an air of mystery to it. 

 

    Duncan Kane showing up to school with a broken nose? Not as much of a mystery, especially when Logan had the matching bruises on his knuckles. 

 

    Overnight, the air had changed in 09-erville; while tensions had been high between Logan and Duncan, and their corresponding camps in Neptune High’s open public theater, the boys’ coming to blows caused the rift in the popular circle to grow. And on the tip of everyone's tongue, was the question of the catalyst for physical violence between them.

 

    The specifics were left to public debate, and as much as Veronica was relieved that she hadn't actually seen Duncan for the whole of the school day, constantly hearing about how she'd torn through the best bromance of Neptune High history was starting to grate on her nerves. At the final bell, Veronica sought a moment of quiet solace at her locker; and she was afforded  _ just _ one moment, before Madison and Rachel gossiped past her to Madison's locker, only a few lockers down.

 

    " _ I _ heard, all three of them have been messing around for months. I get Veronica and Duncan fighting over Logan, but Duncan and Logan fighting over Veronica? I mean, come on." Madison didn't bother whispering or even concealing her snicker just because Veronica was well within earshot. "Plus, think of the Lilly Kane ick factor, no wonder she was sleeping with that psycho Aaron Echolls if her boyfriend and her best friend and her brother were all wrapped up in some gross love triangle, and who knows how long ago it started?"

 

    Exactly one second from letting it go, from letting Madison just say her piece and move on, Veronica realized she just couldn't let it go. She just didn't have the letting-it-go gene. Letting it go wasn't going to be an option.

 

    "Wow, Madison have you ever thought of going into PI work? You really have a knack for figuring these things out." Veronica said, without looking away from her locker. 

 

    "Excuse me?" Madison choked on a laugh. 

 

    "That's some great detective-work, is all I'm saying." With a seemingly innocuous shrug, Veronica slammed her locker door closed, and fixed a smile on her face. "Of course, except for the small detail of you naturally having no freaking idea what you're talking about." Smile shining false in an instant, Veronica only thought of how much stranger the truth was from Madison's fiction. As long as the crowd was tracking who she was sleeping with, they weren't tracking who she was related to; Veronica shook her head at the miniscule amount of comfort that thought really offered her. "So maybe next time you compulsively feel the need to say things that aren't true, you could start at the mirror and try telling yourself you're a good person, with a great personality, and a boyfriend who doesn't cheat on you every other weekend. Or, you could start using your mouth to say  _ true _ things, but then what would the hot locker gossip sound like?"

  
  


   Veronica felt a hand on her shoulder, and then a kiss to her temple. 

 

    "We're some sunshine act today, aren't we?" Logan greeted her, and slid his hand down to the small of her back. He hadn't heard what Madison said, but as someone who'd deserved Veronica's tongue-lashing before, he was pretty sure Madison earned hers. 

 

    "You two deserve each other," Madison huffed, and pulled Rachel away. "Duncan's better off without the two of you, anyway."

 

    "Hear that, honey, the crowd approves." Logan mocked relief until he saw Veronica's face hadn't left fight mode yet. "Hey, what is it?"

 

    Aaron Echolls had killed Lilly, he was in jail for that, for murdering her best friend. With a small smile, Veronica reminded herself of one of the good times.

 

    "You remember that time you and Lilly dared me to eat five hotdogs at the mall carnival?" Veronica kept her eyes on Madison's back, all the way down the hallway. 

 

    Logan barely held back a laugh, "You ate six and then puked in the car on the way home, if I'm remembering correctly. Why?"

 

    "As soon as we got to your house, I was hungry again," She stated it like an explanation, but Logan's face said he wasn't tracking her point. "Mrs. Navarro made me a grilled cheese, and Lilly went home, but my mom was late picking me up." Veronica remembered it like it was a thousand years ago, when it couldn't have been more than four summers ago. 

 

    Logan nodded, he remembered. "It was the first time we ever hung out just the two of us." Remembering her hair long, he smiled; they'd been babies, "Before Lilly-and-Logan and Veronica-and-Duncan. You know, until we got to my house I felt like I'd been third wheeling you and Lilly; third-wheeling best friends is way worse than third wheeling a couple, especially you two." Shaking his head, Logan wasn't sure which point she was trying to make, if she was trying to make a point. 

 

    Veronica remembered sitting on the Echolls' kitchen counter, teasing Logan about his crush on Lilly. 

 

    "She was good to us," Veronica blinked out of her flashback, and blinked back the rage Madison had accidentally kicked up. "I wish we would've gotten to be sisters, as weird as it is." She added, in a whisper. 

 

     With a squeeze to her hand, Logan tried to reassure her. Duncan Kane would never touch her again, but neither would Lilly, and Logan cursed his father again. He'd tried for years to hate his dad, but hurting Lilly, and Missy, and trying to hurt Veronica? That'd made hating his dad easy; it'd made hating his dad into a hobby, something he could put on resumes under special skills. 

 

    "You guys  _ were _ sisters," Logan shook his head, walking her out to her car. "Trust me, as the guy who third wheeled you two." As guilt crept over his face, Logan couldn't help but hope he wasn't sticking his foot in his mouth. Loving Lilly, and losing her, had changed his life, irreparably. Loving Veronica was starting to change him, too. "Do you think she would've... found us, sort of.. funny?"

 

    With a sharp breath, Veronica leaned against her car, and took a moment to contemplate. The image of Lilly that came to mind, was a younger Lilly, mouth stained blue from carnival cotton candy.

 

    "Definitely. A sunshine act, remember?" Veronica brightened, thinking of the damper she'd tried to put on Madison's gossip tirade. Caught between traumas and fresh secrets, Veronica could only dig so far for sympathy for Madison Sinclair. With a soft kiss to her lips, Logan couldn’t help but smile down at Veronica; so different from, but still so similar to, that girl on his kitchen counter wolfing down a grilled cheese sandwich.

  
    Driving home in silence, Veronica let the breeze ruffle her bangs, and she forced herself to think about Moorehead’s hush money. He was probably thinking about retiring soon, thinking about how he was going to have an exotic retirement and sleep on a bed made entirely of money. Veronica was looking forward to dashing those plans, as soon as she found something positively criminal to dash them with.    
  
   All thoughts of what Moorehead could know, dropped from Veronica’s head when she reached her apartment’s door, to find it open, just a crack.    
  
    “Dad?” Taser ready, Veronica leaned in the doorway.   
  
    “Not quite,” Clarence Weidman sat at her breakfast counter, “I thought it was time we had a chat.”    
  
    Eyes dropping to Back Up, who was laying on the floor sedated, Veronica rushed past Weidman. “What did you do to my  _ dog _ ?”    
  
    Kicking herself, Veronica bet that if she would’ve been paying attention, Weidman’s car was somewhere on the street. Lulled into a state in between constant shock and reluctant complacency with it, she’d stopped waiting for him to be around every corner, and of course that’s when he showed up.    
  
    “Crushed up sleeping pills. Long nap for the pooch, short talk for us.” Weidman stood over Veronica, looking old for his age- and Veronica had to wonder if that came with the knowledge of the Kane’s dirty laundry.    
  
    “Does that mean you didn’t get my message?” Veronica spat out, and gave Back Up a rub to his stomach before standing.   
  
    “That  _ forgery _ ?” With a roll of his eyes, Weidman shrugged her off. “I left you alone as long as I did because you’re more trouble than it’s worth, not because your phony restraining order did the trick.”   
  
   Crossing her arms over her chest, Veronica thought about calling the cops, calling her dad, even. But Clarence Weidman was crafty, she’d have to be crafty back, and the pictures he’d sent her mother still bothered her.    
  
    “You knew all along, didn’t you?” Talking about it, outloud, still left a sour taste in Veronica’s mouth; burned her tongue, a little. “The  _ deal with the Kanes?”  _ Fighting a shiver, she shook her head. Even as innuendo it sounded gross and wrong.    
  
    “I’ve known who you were since before you were born, yes,” Clearing his throat, Weidman continued, “I’m here now, because I can’t seem to locate your mother, and yesterday’s  _ incident  _ between Logan Echolls and Duncan Kane has raised the point that apparently…  _ you _ know who you are, too. As you can imagine, Mr. and Mrs. Kane are eager to keep this out of the public-”   
  
    “Not as eager as I am,” Veronica spoke with her jaw clenched.    
  
     Duncan’s guess, her mother’s drunk, weepy confession… Veronica still had a last hope that this whole thing was a terrible mistake, some mishap or prank or anything else besides true. Confirmation from Clarence Weidman was harder to ignore, and Veronica kept her jaw clenched.    
  
    “Right, well. Your mother signed a contract-”   
  
    “I’d like to see it.” Veronica exhaled a heavy breath; physical, documented, undeniable proof that she was half-Kane, a  _ contract _ , how  _ romantic _ .    
  
    Pulling a sealed envelope from his suit jacket, Weidman offered it, and stepped to the door.    
  
    “You understand, if you do not honor that agreement, Mr. and Mrs. Kane will take your mother to court.” Halfway out the door, Clarence made sure to meet Veronica’s eyes for a still second. He could feel bad for her, but that wasn’t really in his job description.   
  
    “Yeah, but you’d have to find her, first. Trust me, no easy task. That  _ is _ why you followed me to Arizona, right? Cause with all your Kane-funding you couldn’t track down one boozy blonde?” Staring into his face, Veronica gave a spiteful smile.    
  
    “Goodbye, Ms. Mars. I suggest you read that contract, and pay special attention to your mother’s signature. As for you and your…  _ boyfriend _ , I’d suggest you stay away from the Kanes, including Duncan.”    
  
_ Clarence Weidman, just full of suggestions _ , Veronica looked down at Back Up, who’d started drooling.    
  
    “I’d suggest they stay away from me.” With a warning tone, Veronica shut the door behind Weidman, and watched from the window as he left the complex. Sealed envelope in hand, Veronica dragged her thoughts away from where her mother could be then. The  _ deal with the Kanes _ in her hands, Veronica went to her room, cleared every book off of a shelf, taped the envelope against the back of it, and then replaced the books back in their place.    
  
    Her father lost his job, his reputation, going after Jake Kane once, she reminded herself. Not to mention, that understanding that  _ contract _ was important to understand where she came from- where she  _ actually _ came from, and sooner rather than later she was going to need to face the truth of that.    
  
    “Honey?” Her dad called, as she flung herself down onto her bed. “Kraft tonight, and then maybe some ice cream?”   
  
    “Ice cream would be  _ great _ , Dad.” Cheering for a second, Veronica called back. Understanding where she came from didn’t have to change who she was, she reminded herself, staring into the bookshelf. It  _ wouldn’t _ , she promised herself.    
  
    “Where are we on the Moorehead case?” Keith leaned in the doorway, a grin fixed on her.    
  
    “ _ Well… _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title's a borrowed line from the band Metric.
> 
> Gonna try to make tonight a multi post night, if there are any formatting issues I'm posting from mobile, so please forgive them until I'm able to fix em. Thanks!


	20. The C Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clemmons & confession

  “I really shouldn’t be discussing your father’s investigation with a student, Ms. Mars,” Clemmons barely mustered a glare across the desk at her, his eyes kept flicking to the door behind her. “As a matter of fact, I asked him not to mention it to you.”  
  
    He’d been trying it for five minutes, pretending like she didn’t know anything, pretending like he was even focusing on her.   
  
    “Investigation? What investigation? I’m just here to learn a little Neptune history, Mr.C; driven by my pirate pride.” Veronica smiled, and it didn’t take too heavy a dose of sarcasm for them both to know she wasn’t there to cheer on the basketball team. “I’m just _wondering_ if the mayor was ever a student here, that’s all. We both know I could just check the former student files myself, but all the new security since the break-in… It would just really help my dad, I think. Help my dad help you, that is.” With an innocent shrug, Veronica… _bent the truth,_ just… a little.   
  
    Her dad really was on the case, and while he didn’t actually ask for any of the old school files, Veronica just had a good feeling they’d find something in there. Leaving most of the heavy-lifting of their investigation to her father, Veronica figured a little digging on her own couldn’t hurt anyone, except maybe the principal and the mayor.   
  
    “Well, not that it’s any of your concern, but security may well go back to normal on campus soon enough. The intruder’s been apprehended; I’m sure you passed Sheriff Lamb on your way into my office, in fact.” Clemmons watched Veronica’s measured reaction, and pressed on, “As for your newfound investment in our school’s history, I’m afraid you cannot see the mayor’s old records from his time here. This is a school, we have rules, and you’re a student, I feel the need to keep reminding you.”   
  
    Inwardly smiling, Veronica took that as Clemmons’ long-winded way of saying _yes_ , the mayor had attended Neptune high. “Me? A student?” Veronica smiled down at the bookbag by her feet. “So _that’s_ why I keep carrying around this bag of dead trees.” She smiled, and Clemmons shook his head in mild disapproval. “Lamb still thinks the person that trashed your office was a student?” She asked; she had seen her dad’s old deputy waiting in Clemmons’ lobby. She’d offered him a choice glare as she’d strode passed him.   
  
    “Lamb doesn’t have to think,” Clemmons ignored Veronica’s snicker, “Eli Navarro has confessed it to me, himself.”   
  
    “ _Confessed?”_ Veronica stared, incredulous. “Weevil _confessed_ to the break-in? So, Lamb’s here to arrest him?” At Clemmons’ earnest nod, Veronica huffed a sigh, “Did Weevil say _why_ he would’ve broken into your office?”   
  
    A full confession seemed so wildly unlikely, Veronica shook her head; she wasn’t sure she had the full story on the break-in, but even if Weevil hadn’t told her the truth… a _confession?_ To _Lamb?_ She was expecting to be Weevil’s one phone-call the minute Lamb got his hands on him; not to mention his cuffs.   
  
    “It’s an ongoing investigation, Veronica… But if you _know_ something,” The reproachful gleam in Clemmons’ eye couldn’t have been imagined, Veronica was sure he was saying something without saying it- “I urge you to tell me or Sheriff Lamb that information.”   
  
     Switching her mind back to the Moorehead scandal, Veronica figured she only had a few questions left that maybe Clemmons _would_ answer. She hadn’t gotten her hands on Mayor Goodman’s old school file, but she got confirmation it existed, and there were only a few more hints and nudges she wanted to pursue in Clemmons’ office.   
  
    “I don’t know anything about the school break-in,” Veronica said. And for all she knew, what Weevil and Frankie told her wasn’t the truth, anyway, so maybe she really didn’t know anything, she figured. Weevil being in custody, by choice, didn't sound to Veronica like anything but bad news. “Back to my dad helping you- Moorehead was a teacher _here_ when the mayor was a student, right?” It wasn’t exactly a guess; it was an... educated hunch.   
  
    When the two men met at that fundraiser six years ago, Veronica was willing to bet it wasn’t their first meeting.   
  
    “ _Principal_ Moorehead,” Regretfully, Clemmons reminded them both, “has been a teacher and administrator here for almost thirty years.” When the bell rang a second later, he added, “I think it’s time for you to get back to class, Veronica. I’ve been about as helpful as I can be… trying to indulge your fresh _enthusiasm_ for the history of Neptune High School.”   
  
   Another non-answer, and Veronica barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. She would have to find her answers on her own, as little of a surprise as _that_ came to her. Swallowing a joke about the word _enthusiasm_ coming from Mr. Clemmons, Veronica stood and left the office, just in time to see Lamb ushering away Weevil in handcuffs.   
  
    “Hey, V,” Weevil gave a small smile, head lolled to the side like he was waiting for her to figure the whole thing out.   
  
    “Care to confess, too, Ms.Mars? Have you been helping the local criminal element again?” Lamb’s gum popped in his mouth, as he gave Weevil a small shove forward.   
  
    “Only when they ask really nicely.” Veronica said, trying to interrogate Weevil silently; trying to make sense of what he would confess to Lamb.   
  
    As Lamb marched Weevil down the hall, amongst whispers from classmates, and jeers from the PCH-ers, Veronica looked into gathering crowd as students were let out of classrooms. Meeting Logan’s eyes through everyone following Weevil, Veronica shrugged; it wasn’t a mystery she’d had time to work out yet. Logan couldn’t help but smile, until he watched Weevil and Lamb pass him, too, a dark expression on Weevil’s face then.   
  
  


	21. Inside Man

  
    “Remind me why I’m letting this happen?” Veronica wracked her brain trying to remember how one thing had led to another. She needed help with the case, sure, but she’d been telling Logan no, that it was a bad idea to send him in alone, and then all of a sudden she was checking mic levels on his ear-piece.   
  
    “Consider this small act of covert surveillance a romantic gesture,” Logan smiled, “besides, who else is  _ almost _ as good as you at rule-breaking and bullshitting?” Meant as a compliment, Logan didn’t figure her reproachful glare was all that called for.   
  
    “And they say romance is dead,” Veronica said, pressing her lips up to his. The rule-breaking aspect was why Veronica neglected to ask her dad's advice on this mission;  _mini-mission_ , she reminded herself. With her dad in charge of the big stuff, Veronica figured she could manage mini-missions all on her own. Well, plus Logan.    
  
    For days she’d wanted to plant a bug in the mayor’s office, hoping to catch calls related to the principal’s payments, or what they were for, but because of her stint as  _ Jessie the Intern, _ she knew she’d be recognized around the office. Her papercuts had finally healed over from interning, and Veronica wasn’t in a rush to reprise her role as  _ Jessie. _   
  
    “Remember, I’ll be in your ear the whole time, and I’m right out here if anything goes funny.” She repeated, smoothing his shirt down his chest. He had his cover story, he had the bug to plant, and he had a mischievous smile across his face.    
  
    “Hi, Mayor Goodman, pleasure to meet you,  _ yes _ , I’m  _ that  _ Logan Echolls, actually I was just wondering if you’d be interested in being interviewed as this month’s celebrity alum for the school newspaper,” Act dropped, Logan looked skeptical. “Really, people go for this?”   
  
    “Your dad did,” Veronica snorted when Logan nodded, unsurprised.   
  
    “Well that figures.” With a deep breath, Logan walked across the street, gave her a thumbs up from the doorway, and entered the mayor’s office. Her complaints about the place all rang valid pretty much upon entry. A stressed-out looking secretary scowled at him, signed him in as a visitor, and sat him in the waiting room, seemingly all without hanging up her desk phone for even a second.    
  
    “Cough twice if you can hear me.” Veronica spoke in his ear, and Logan smiled, despite the chaos of the office. And then he coughed twice.    
  
    Breathing a sigh of relief, Veronica checked the first box in her head. They were in the office.  _ He _ was in the office, on the front lines for her, and she winced, reminding herself he’d volunteered.   
  
       "Okay, so all you have to do is talk the talk, stash the bug somewhere preferably close to the phone but anywhere in the office should do it- and then get out of there." Veronica said, and after a few seconds of silence, Logan coughed again. "Okay, good talk-"

 

    "Hello, Mr. Mayor," Logan cleared his throat, shaking the mayor's hand, "I think you talked to my...  _ journalism teacher _ ." Sitting across from the mayor's desk, Logan tried to casually look around the office for somewhere to leave Veronica's bug. The mayor's office was cluttered, packed with old campaign stickers, new campaign stickers, pictures from clearly-staged photo ops. If Veronica needed this guy's DNA, Logan figured all they would have to do was hand him a baby to kiss. 

 

    With a smile, Veronica listened hard, heart beating just a little abnormally quick. Getting herself into these situations, and getting herself out, was a skill she'd learned over time, and a risk she embraced willingly and often.  _ Logan  _ embracing that risk for her felt... more than romantic, it felt dangerous, too. 

 

    "Hopefully he doesn't call the school to confirm with the  _ real  _ Ms. Dent," Veronica just hoped his office was as chaotic and incompetent as it seemed when she worked there. 

  
     "We're looking to write a piece on you,” Logan started, “as one of Neptune High School's most successful alumni." Flattery paired with a winning smile, Logan reminded himself all of the lessons he'd learned the hard way at the Aaron Echolls' Charm School over the years. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, sir, I know you must have a lot of important work to do. Plus, a career in public service, you know; I'm sure we could all learn a lot from you, sir." Sarcasm undetectable, Logan smiled again at the man sitting across from him. 

 

     Yeah, he could believe pretty words from a pretty girl won his dad over. In the same way that flattery was winning the mayor over. (Not that Logan didn't consider himself pretty)

 

    "Easy there, snake charmer; some of that actually sounded genuine. Is this why you're always smiling when you compliment me? You practice in the mirror to make it sound more real, don't you? Eh, my ego's gonna take a hit, but if you get Goodman on the hook with the world's slipperiest piece of bait, so be it." Veronica laughed to herself, and heard Logan's chuckle covered with a cough.  _ A public servant _ , Veronica mocked the mayor in her head. Withholding public school funds hardly seemed like the work of a man concerned about serving the public.   
  
     In the middle of the thing, of running an operation of the mayor of her city, and sending her boyfriend in to get his hands dirty, Veronica tried to breathe easy. It was happening, Logan was asking his leading fluff questions; about Goodman's high school athletics record, about his favorite baseball team, about how when he was sixteen he just knew one day he'd be mayor. Offering her commentary only to Logan, Veronica kept them both from yawning through the mayor's blabbering. 

 

    "Spoken like a man who really loves to tell that story," Veronica openly rolled her eyes, sitting in the car. "He does know he played little league thirty years ago? It's time to let go already, bud. Join a men’s league like the rest of everybody looking to relive the good ‘ole boy glory days." 

 

    Logan's necessary silent treatment in front of the mayor aside, Veronica hoped to ease both of them as nearly fifteen minutes went by, until the mayor was called to a conference call in another part of the office. 

 

    "Now's your shot," Veronica whispered, hoping Logan could find an opening to stash the listening device he'd snuck into the office. Somewhere near the phone, Veronica crossed her fingers, silently, and listened intently to Logan's thanking the mayor, again. 

 

    While the mayor's back was to him for a moment, Logan kept his eyes up and watchful, as he stuck the bug to the underside of the mayor's desk, taking care it was near enough to the phone, but still out of sight. He breathed easier knowing it was done, and he beamed proud of himself.

 

    "I think I have everything I need," Logan smiled when the mayor turned back, and he thought he still saw something odd about the man. He didn't strike Logan as stupid, or even careless, but there was something off about him; like he maintained eye contact uncomfortably, or his smile was off-putting. "Everything I came for, anyways." A hint to Veronica, the  mayor couldn't have suspected anything from it, Logan figured.  "If I have any follow-ups-"

 

    "My office is open to you, Mr. Echolls." With a toothy smile, Mayor Goodman left Logan with another politician’s handshake.

 

    “He just has no idea  _ how  _ open,” Veronica couldn’t stop herself.    
  
    Walking back across the office parking lot, Logan didn't think it was his imagination that Veronica looked a lot less worried than she had when he walked in. Once safely back in the car, Logan handed his earpiece back to Veronica with a satisfied smile. 

 

    "So? Not bad, considering last time you only let me play getaway driver. Think you can make a bonafide spy out of me?" Reaching across the console, Logan smoothed his fingertips against the denim on her thigh.

 

    Smiling that the transmitter was working, feeding the mayor's office audio to her laptop, Veronica had to nod. She had to give it to him, "Patience, young grasshopper. First, let’s see if we can figure out why Weevil would confess to a break-in I’m not sure he did.”   
  
   “You think he might’ve?” Logan watched her face deliberate; Weevil had said he hadn’t been involved, only that he knew after. Even though Logan couldn’t say he liked  Weevil all that much, still he hoped for Weevil’s own sake that the PCH-er hadn’t lied to Veronica.    
  
    “Not sure.” Veronica reminded herself of the packet Weevil brought her from the principal’s office. Suddenly that helpful stint of generosity had a darker tone in her mind, wondering what Weevil got out of it. She definitely remembered the way Frankie’s voice shook, afraid he would get in trouble. Fingers tapping against the steering wheel, Veronica chewed her lip, already thinking of retaliatory actions for if she’d been lied to; all of them unpleasant for Weevil Navarro.


	22. Visiting Hours

        When Veronica was eleven, her dad got a new deputy sheriff. She remembered feeling unimpressed, even at  eleven, and looking back, Veronica mourned all the missed opportunities to mess with Lamb before he would've suspected her.

 

    "Unlike when your daddy worked here, _nowadays_ when a person confesses their involvement in a crime, the law doesn't have bones about taking their word for it." Lamb's eyes rolled to Weevil down the hall in the holding cell, and then settled back on Veronica, who looked as unimpressed as the day they'd met.

 

    " _Nowadays_ , you guys don't have bones about much, do you? Tell me, life's a lot easier without shame, isn't it, _Sheriff_ ?" Mocking title coming from her, Veronica would've preferred multiple kinds of bodily torture than to sincerely refer to Lamb as a Sheriff. Even at eleven, she recognized him as barely capable to be deputy, especially to her father. Nevertheless, his badge hung from his uniform, and her dad was chasing bail jumpers to afford the _fancy_ microwave dinners.

 

    "Shame that we _are_ sticklers about criminal visiting hours, though, isn't it?" Lamb sucked a tooth, grinning.

 

    "What exactly is it that Weevil's confessed to?" Disbelief heavy in her voice, Veronica crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn't believe that he'd just confess a crime to Lamb, whether or not he actually committed the break-in, and she was almost sure he hadn't actually done it.

 

    "You wanna know... _exactly_ what me and Mr. Navarro talked about?" Lamb leaned against his office doorway, and waited for Veronica's subsequent nod. In ways she probably prided herself on, she reminded him a lot of her dad. It was like neither of them ever expected to hear the word ‘no,’ even as often as he practiced saying it to them. "Well, _mostly_ we had a lot to say to each other about how… my investigation is none of your business. Now, will you be needing an escort to your car, or can you just follow your father's footsteps out of this office?" When Lamb got a glare out of her, he took his cue and strode back into his office- the 'Sheriff' tab on his slammed door it's own kind of dismissal.

 

    Fortunately, Veronica wasn't counting on Lamb's good heart and persistent friendliness to get her access to Weevil- some of her dad's old staff had more loyalties than her dad's former-protege-turned-jackass.

 

    Like she'd done it once or twice before, Veronica smiled her way into the holding cell hallway, promising Inga she only needed a quick word with a friend.

 

    "Your father shouldn't let you have the sort of friends that come here, Veronica," Inga warned, in the slighted English Veronica could flawlessly replicate since she was thirteen.

 

    Before Veronica could protest, she heard Weevil calling.

 

    "I've been waiting here all day for my fairy godmother- what, was I supposed to take a number?" Weevil leaned forward in the cell, forehead poking through the bars.

 

    "That's... officially my cue." Veronica pointed towards Weevil, and thanked Inga, again. "So... did you get the bunk you asked for?" Turning to Weevil with false cheer in her voice. "Are you and the other boys getting along?" Warily, Veronica eyed two other people in the holding cell, and they glared back at her.

 

    "Yeah, we’re thinking about starting a band, you can be our roadie.” Miserably, Weevil took a deep breath. “What was I supposed to do, okay? _Certain people_ were next on Lamb's warpath, and those certain people weren't gonna fit in with this kind of knitting club, don't you think?" Weevil met Veronica's eyes with slow, deliberate meaning, and only looked away when she nodded.

 

    "So what aren't you telling me?" Veronica asked, arms folded across her chest. She'd already called Cliff from the car; but a pinned down Weevil was too good an opportunity to waste- even if Veronica could've admired what he was doing for Frankie.

 

    "Lots of things. I'm allergic to peanut butter; makes me break out in hives." Weevil half-attempted a smile, but shuffled his feet at her empty glare. "Fine. I was supposed to be the one who; you know, with the office. It really wasn't me, I told you that, and I told Lamb that. It was supposed to be quick and easy cash, no questions asked. The freshman got involved, thought he was helping... I don't know, V, it was stupid."

 

    "What else did you tell Lamb? And quick cash from who?" Stepping closer, Veronica knew she wanted at least five things from Clemmons' locked office just at the present moment, but who else could want something so badly from a Vice Principal that they couldn't just ask for?

 

    "Lamb can't hold me for too long, I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know; and I didn't tell him how I could confirm any of his allegations. If he had anything he would’ve charged me, right now I’m just waiting for him to think up some questions. He thinks it was me, which is fine. You probably do, too." With a laugh, Weevil shook his head when she didn't rush to fight the accusation. "Friend of yours, actually, went through the grapevine looking for... how did he put it... He had a job to 'outsource.' From the inside of the sheriff’s office, that sounds to me like white-people for 'here, you take the blame.'" Weevil huffed an angry sigh. "I think he thought he was hiring a bunch of high school kids," Shaking his head, Weevil laughed; the bike was usually a dead giveaway, but not in this case. "He wasn't even gonna pay us."

 

    Veronica could only roll her eyes so many times. "So... should I just look for anyone in town with fresh bruises? What did he want from Clemmons' office, is what I need to know. Then maybe I can help you out here."

 

    What would've helped incredibly, was if Frankie hadn't actually done the break-in. The best Veronica figured she could hope for in the retrospect, was that someone had a really good reason to break into Clemmons' office.

 

   "Well... and here's where I want you to remember that I came to you with it." Smiling, Weevil registered her glare as hardly reproachful, which meant he still had a chance to make his case. "That _packet_ I gave you," Weevil lowered his voice, "you're not the only one who has a copy of it."


	23. Table for Three

      With a headphone pressed to one ear, and her cellphone pressed to the other, Veronica sat with her elbows resting on the courtyard-cafeteria-table-turned-PI-work-desk. Her courtyard cafeteria table. The first flag she'd planted in Outcastland after Lilly's death, and Veronica's boot from 09er-ville. Sure, Outcastland had grown a lot in a year. Population: three, some days. Three or more, if somebody needed her help. But since it was after school hours, mostly Neptune High was a ghost town; somewhere some poor schleps were doing detention, or maybe even SAT studying. Veronica waited patiently for someone to pick up her call, and looked across the courtyard at the empty 09-er table she used to sit at. 

 

    "Hi, this is Nancy from First National Bank, am I speaking with a Mr. Moorehead?" Work-voice in full tilt, Veronica waited on Moorehead's confirmation, and then continued. "Sir, I'm calling about your account ending in 0694- this is just a courtesy notification call- that a recent transaction involving your account has been cancelled." Veronica smiled in the quiet pause that followed. "A scheduled deposit of $250,000 has been cancelled, and the transaction put on hold."

 

    "Cancelled?"

 

    "Yes, sir. The bank received notification of cancellation this morning. These courtesy calls usually save both our clients and our tellers a lot of unpleasantness when withdrawals are attempted; you understand, sir." Veronica listened as Moorehead made a choking noise that didn't sound like he was very understanding. 

 

    "There must be a mistake," he argued, "because there's no way a payment would've been cancelled." 

 

    "Well, I can request a transfer inquiry for you, sir. The systems-check-investigation should bounce back any false reports that way; usually, we only need investigations for security purposes, you know, to minimize suspicious activity, but in the case of incorrect notifications-"

 

    "No, no, that's alright, thank you. I'm sure the misunderstanding must be on my end, then; I'll get it sorted out with my business partner, that's all." Moorehead's assurance only made Veronica smile to herself. A tap on her shoulder made her smile, too. Wordlessly, Logan and Wallace took their respective seats next to her in Outcastland. 

 

    "Well, in that case, I hope you're able to get it sorted out just fine, and if you have any other questions or concerns, or you need any further assistance in this matter, please call First National Bank's customer service line anytime, Mr. Moorehead." Ducking her head a little, Veronica got ready to listen to Wallace and Logan mock her work-voice. They could mock it all they liked, she thought; more often than not, it got the job done.  _ Nancy  _ at First National Bank sure had her part to play in all of this.

 

    Wallace snickered, and Logan just shook his head, his hand in his hair. Snapping her phone closed, Veronica let all thoughts of her past-life behind the velvet ropes of Neptune High's high society fade. 

 

    "You realize, you’re gonna have the weirdest extracurriculars section on your college applications. You got the pay-off put on hold?" Wallace's cursory glance around the courtyard was customary, and Veronica appreciated it as much as she expected it. 

 

    "Nope," She smiled. "I don't have to actually burn Moorehead's house down- I just have to send him the right smoke signals and make him sweat a little. Here's the live audio from the mayor's office." Unplugging her headphone jack from her laptop, Veronica waited for the ring of the Mayor's office phone to come through like music to her ears. With a soft smile at Logan, Veronica thanked him again for helping the day before. 

 

    “And lemme guess, that’s Moorehead calling the fire department?” Logan laughed short at the glare she shot him, and all three leaned closer to the laptop.  
  
    “His _business partner_ ,” Veronica rolled her eyes. If only she knew the business they were in together; she hoped now would be her chance to learn.  
  
    A little muffled, and a little static-stricken, the audio came through:  
  
 _“There’s a mistake, Alan,” the mayor only stammered for a minute, “oh, relax, there’s not gonna be any bank inquiries,”_ _  
_ _  
_Well, Veronica felt pretty sure about that; because mostly, she’d made that part up.  
  
 _“Of course you’ll get your money, after all these years, I can’t believe you would call my_ office _about this, I hope you teach your students more common sense.”_  
  
    Logan snorted a laugh; Moorehead was pretty much a figurehead around Neptune High. A tea-time away from being the small-scale California answer to the Queen of England. Except minus all the ceremony, and a lot of the money.   
  
_“Really, Alan, I’m sure there’s just been a mix-up, you’ve been loyal to me all this time. I’ve been meaning to call you anyways, I guess. With your retirement coming up, I’m glad we’ve both been able to get what we’ve wanted. And I’m also pretty glad my kids go to private school.” The mayor laughed._ _  
_ _  
_“Constituents should hear this; _parents_ should hear this,” Wallace rolled his eyes. Most of Veronica’s work regarded private citizens; people ruining their own marriages, or stealing from their own businesses. The mayor paying off the principal, especially in return for public favors; Wallace just wanted to know when they could mail the audio tape to Oprah.   
  
    “I just wish I could hear both sides of the conversation.” Sighing, Veronica prayed the mayor would have a sudden urge to put their call on speakerphone. She was taken slightly aback by how calm Mayor Goodman remained; Moorehead must’ve been holding back a lot of his confusion and anger, and it made Veronica question how close the two really were. They were _comfortable_ in the lies they were telling, the facade they’d been keeping up for years. It made her shake her head.   
  
_“Of course, as long as you keep your mouth shut, the payments will continue. Hasn’t that always been the deal?”_ _  
_ _  
_“Spoken like a true man of the people,” Logan leaned his elbows on the table, “that’ll be a good soundbite for the trial.” Smiling at Veronica, Logan willed thoughts of his father’s trial, and his father, away. Unfortunately, his father’s trial had the full video proof, complete with sex tape clips, the visual to match the soundbite.  
  
 _“Don’t you threaten me. I don’t know why the payment was cancelled, but you breathe one word of that, and I’ll get every penny of my money back from you and use it to bulldoze that school to the ground, with you inside of it.”_ _  
_ _  
_“Ah, a lover’s quarrel,” Logan bit his thumbnail.  
  
   “He sounds _scared_ now,” Veronica couldn’t help but smile, “Wonder what Moorehead said.” The spike in fear and anger, that was more the reaction she imagined, closer to the way she hoped this phone call would sound when _Nancy_ set it up.  
  
 _“You shut up about that girl; like your past isn’t hiding it’s own indiscretions. And there’s still the small matter of the school’s auditorium fund,” Goodman’s voice raised,_ _  
_ _  
_“Clemmons’ set-up,” Veronica sighed about the _auditorium fund_ , as Wallace nodded. _That girl_ , Veronica memorized; what girl?  
  
 _“You want to threaten me or you want to make money? I was under the assumption you weren’t a very stupid man, but throwing that in my face now… Maybe I was wrong, Alan.”_   
  
    Fear nearly gone from Goodman’s voice, Veronica’s mind still fixated on the girl- on the original scandal that sparked the payoff.   
  
_“Of course the payment will go through; call me when you get the deposit if you like. Just watch your mouth, Moorehead; if you start dragging out old skeletons, you may not like what else creeps out of the closet. Pleasure hearing from you as always, Alan. Tell Emily I said hello.”_  
  
    With the click of the mayor’s phone back on its receiver, Logan whistled.   
  
    “So there was a girl?” Wallace looked to Veronica. “A _girl_ is all you got out of all your smoke-signals. Wait, so what did Weevil say yesterday?”  
  
    More than prepared for them teasing her work-voice, Veronica hadn’t decided how much to tell about her chat with Weevil in the sheriff’s station.   
  
    “Yes, what says our jailhouse informant?” Logan still didn’t _like_ Weevil; on instinct, if nothing else. But sometimes he was Veronica’s friend, and more importantly, sometimes he helped her. That counted in Weevil’s favor, even when instinct didn’t, Logan decided.  
  
    “Jailhouse…. Informant…” Smiling through her feigned confusion, Veronica closed her laptop. “ _Weevil_ … hmm, no, not ringing any bells for me.”   
  
    Logan laughed, watching her pack up her makeshift investigator’s spread. Moorehead’s financials were out, as well as the packet of documents Weevil gave Veronica from the break-in. “Selective amnesia? Really, that’s all you’ve got?” Biting his lip, Logan couldn’t help but smile at her; even when she was trying to be evasive she was amusing. Most of the time, Logan prided himself on not being exceptionally dense. Especially in her business, Veronica had secrets to keep from him eventually; usually, he just hoped they wouldn’t get her hurt. Helping bug Goodman’s office, Logan felt hopeful that it earned him a spot in her mind; as a deputy PI, or a substitute spy, or even just a good boyfriend.   
  
    For his part, Wallace just rolled his eyes. Sometimes when Veronica had a secret to keep, it was for a good reason; and sometimes, honestly she knew things he didn’t need to know. About other classmates, teachers… sometimes she had dirt on people he didn’t need to see the dark-side of. But curiosity even got the best of him, occasionally, and he was sure that was an occurrence he can blame on proximity to Veronica.   
  
    “Maybe I hit my head on something?” Tucking her _extracurriculars_ away, Veronica wasn’t ready to reveal all her new information at once. Mostly, she still had to figure out what a lot of Weevil said meant. Ordinarily, being in the middle of something wouldn’t have stopped her from talking to Wallace or Logan, but before Veronica said __peep , she still had to confirm Weevil’s story.   
  
    Throughout the entirety of the school-day, Weevil’s absence had been itching at her, and she hoped at least Cliff had come through against Lamb. But with the scent of Goodman’s scandal still fresh, Veronica had an idea about where to start looking.  
  
    “Mmm, I think your head’s too hard for anything to do real damage,” Logan reached for her temple, and thumbed bangs out of her eyes, still smiling, as Wallace shook his head at them, again.  
  
    Shaking her head, on second thought, Veronica mused internally that maybe Outcastland was dealing with a bout of overcrowding.


	24. Shared Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still warnings for a few rape mentions, mostly tongue-in-cheek coping jokes (?)

         When Keith left the office to stake out a cheating husband, he made Veronica promise not to obsess (or think intensely!) over developments in the Moorehead case, and she hadn’t even crossed her fingers doing it.  _ These investigations take time, we don't want to burn out in the second quarter, _ he'd said. Neither of them mentioned the Lilly Kane investigation, or the high personal toll they'd paid for her dad's _ intense thinking _ about Jake Kane. Finishing her dad's weekly invoices, Veronica nearly stapled her thumb to the pile. Fixating on cleaning her desk, on meticulously going through old receipts, old client files, and discarded case records, kept Veronica from fixating on other, more scarlet-scandal-red-ink issues involving multi-million dollar pay-days and corrupt public officials.

 

    "Hey," came a knock at the door, and Veronica looked up to Logan in her office, and cleaning took an immediate backseat. 

 

    "Hey," she responded, meeting his hello kiss with a smile. "You were in the neighborhood?" 

 

    Logan fiddled with the stapler on her desk, before putting it back in it's place, and leaning against the side of her freshly cleaned desk, pulling her towards him. 

 

    "Something like that," he nodded, fingertips lingering on her elbows, pulling her nearer. Attention drawn to Keith's closed office door, Logan tried to remind himself that Veronica's dad was pretty hands-on about enforcing his hands-off policy regarding his daughter. 

 

    "Relax, my dad's on a case," Veronica leaned her hips into Logan's, and linked her hands around his back, "A case with virtually no immediate political blowback." She tried not to say it like a complaint, but she couldn't help but wonder if her dad was dragging his feet into the mayor's investigation in light of their rise and subsequent fall in social status because of previous investigations. Remembering that feeling, losing everything you were holding tight to, wasn't a feeling Veronica found easy to shake; but she also remembered why she started investigating the mayor in the first place. Wallace's basketball team's cut funding. 

 

    "No political blowback? Really, you guys take cases like that, too?" Logan teased, but the smirk barely reached his eyes. 

 

    "Sometimes. Everything okay?" Veronica asked, and Logan looked away, shake of his head only the least bit discernible as distress.

 

    "My parents' divorce is apparently almost finalized; yippee. I'm just trying to decide if I should call Perez Hilton myself, or wait to see what unnamed sources have to say about the Echolls’ sideshow. Of course, instead of a condo I visit on weekends, my dad's got a max-security prison cell instead of the marital home," with half an eyeroll, he shrugged. Jokes and sly digs, Logan's coping mechanisms of choice, were falling a little flat in the midst of every other social drama playing out in their lives. 

 

    "How's your mom?" Veronica asked softly, knowing firsthand that no matter the circumstances it was hard to watch your family fall apart, and things got harder when even the pieces fit together poorly. 

 

   "Eh, you know; it’s going better than she expected, I think," Answering honestly, Logan took his time. The Lilly Kane and Missy Blake murder sagas pushed behind them, and Lynn and Logan still moved forward; however slowly. "Amazing what a few first degree murder and statutory rape convictions'll do to a divorce settlement," Logan smirked. "I know he's already had his experiences with homicidal rage, but once the lawyers explain he'll probably die in jail, penniless... well, I don’t envy his cellmate." Shrugging, Logan crossed out the memories in his mind where his dad played warden in their house. 

  
      Wincing,  Veronica couldn't bring herself to muster any sympathy for Lilly's murderer, but she was sorry for Logan, and even for Lynn. The media circus that followed tragedy's coattails in Neptune was finally moving on from Aaron Echolls' trial; but Aaron Echolls' divorce would probably bring back some of the vultures that thrived on publicizing people's pain and scandal. 

 

    "And how are you doing?" Nudging his chest with her chin, Veronica felt his eyes come back to her.    
  
     "Like, generally or..." Logan tilted her chin up to his, planting a soft kiss to her top lip. 

  
     “You wanna reprieve our rivalry, and pop my car’s tires and see if it helps?” Voice still coming as a whisper, Veronica teased. Kissing up at his chin, Veronica didn’t let his half-smile escape her notice.    
  
    “No thanks. I derive pleasure in other ways these days, thank you.” Running his hands along her hips, around her back, Logan felt her laugh against him.    
  
    “Those other girlfriends, huh?” Joking, Veronica leaned into his kiss again, deeper this time, but still soft.    


    "Just the one, actually. Pretty, smart... cutting wit," Planting a tiny kiss on her nose, Logan couldn't picture mourning his tragedies any other way after loving her. "Knows how to use a taser," his eyebrows flared.

 

    "Wait a minute, lemme check my resume. I'm pretty sure under the special skills section, it says  _ I _ can use a taser." Fingertips pressed against the back of his neck, Veronica felt close to him then, in a lot of ways, some scary. 

 

    "Thank you," Logan sighed relief into her cheek, thanking her for loving him, for kissing him, for making him smile. For being her. 

 

    "Hey, with any luck, maybe you'll still find out your dad's not actually your dad," she teased, and it was really too soon to make that joke, but she steeled herself beforehand, and let the words come out, anyway. Sooner or later, Jake Kane being her biological father was going to have to work it's way into her real life, and taking a page from Logan's book and laughing about it seemed like an idea to explore. 

 

    "Eh," Logan considered, working his hand up her back, "The devil you know, you know?" He leaned down, his whispers, lips, and teeth just grazing her bottom lip. “Are… you off the clock, yet?” Distractions easily worked both ways, Logan figured. Her hands, her eyes, her lips, wiped every immediately stressful thought from his head, but the crease between her brows said he hadn’t exactly returned the favor, yet.    
  
     “I’m still waiting on a call from Cliff about Weevil…” Veronica pulled back from Logan’s arms for a second, admiring her desk, and it’s newly organized surface. “But they both have my cell number… I  _ suppose  _ if I can whittle a gun from a bar of soap, and we can overtake the guards, we can get out of here.” Voice breathy, even to her own ears, Veronica powered through it. Since finding out about her rape, her parentage, and everything up in the air with the mayor’s investigation, the last things on Veronica’s mind had been the taste of Logan’s lips, or the softness of his sheets. But suddenly, Veronica didn’t want to think of anything else. 


	25. the Veronica Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a p w/o p chapter before we solve some crimes

   “I swear to god, if I went blind right this very minute, I’d be fine with that,” Logan smiled, leaning up on his elbow, tucking blonde hair behind Veronica’s ear. The view from his pillow mesmerized; her edges were all hers, her mouth was always ready to fire off a snappy comment or an accusation, but in his bed she had a softness. Hair beaming golden, and skin glistening moonlight, she was something of a fairytale come to life beside him, especially once she smirked.   
  
    “Don’t say that,” mirroring him, she leaned up on her elbow, too. “My visual’s not too bad, either,” Veronica leaned forward, lips smacking against his. “Or, you know, it wouldn’t be, if my eyes ever got around to uncrossing.” Teasing, Veronica pulled his sheets up around her shoulders, relaxing her forehead against his chest. “Seriously, I know I’m not really qualified to judge, but I’m pretty sure you’re good at that.” Voice muffled against his chest, Veronica laughed, and didn’t catch how the smile dropped from Logan’s face.    
  
     “Veronica…” Logan dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. “I wasn’t thinking…”    
  
    Coming back from her office to his place and peeling her out of her skinny, little blue-jeans, only one thought had really crossed Logan’s mind. Post-coital, in the afterglow of loving her, thoughts popped up that didn’t feel so good. All last year, he’d heard (and fine, even spread) rumors about her expansive and lurid and  _ made up _ sexual history, and recently she’d found out she was raped by her surprise ex-boyfriend-of-a-half-brother.    
  
    “You let me drive the whole time,” Veronica pulled back to look at him, to meet his eyes, to prove to both of them that she was okay. “You didn’t have to think about it, you just let me feel… nice.”  _ Nice _ . The word sounded silly after she said it, but it felt true. Waking up alone in the poolhouse felt terrible, felt like the worst combination of ground-swallowing-embarrassment and violation. This? Leaning into his chest, against his warmth, feeling his breath on her neck? Felt nice.   
  
    “Nice,” Logan smiled, in spite of himself. “You would’ve said something if-”   
  
    “Of course,” Reaching her arm over his body, Veronica kissed the underside of his chin, and she still felt nice. After months of imagining it, imagining their first time and what it might be like, Veronica marked the mystery solved; and she was very satisfied with the outcome of  _ that _ investigation. “Can I ask you something?”   
  
    “Anything.” Logan braced himself, and tried to ignore the way her fingertips were trying their damnedest to tickle him between his shoulderblades.    
  
    “Is it important to you that you’re the big spoon or…” Bringing her hand back down to his jaw, Veronica pulled him into a lazy kiss, leaning their body-weights against each other, just lips against lips.    
  
    “You realize, even if you spoon me, I’d still be the big spoon. Boy, they should’ve called what Napoleon had the Veronica Complex, huh?” Bringing her cheek to his lips, Logan kissed her until her glare turned loving again.    


* * *

  
  
  
     Blinking awake, Veronica rolled to her side, bumping elbows with a still-asleep Logan. His jaw open slightly, and his eyes closed loosely, Veronica couldn't help but wonder what he was dreaming about; if he was dreaming.   
  
    “I haveta beat my dad to the office,” She whispered, leaning up onto his chest, and Veronica had to forcibly bite her tongue to keep from laughing at the slow way his eyes opened to her. “It’s only seven, but I need to go to work.” Trying to keep the whine from her voice, Veronica felt well-rested, well-cared-for, and she was more than ready to put in a full Saturday’s work day, even if she also really wanted to spend a few more hours in his bed.    
  
    “Seven am? On a Saturday? Am I having a nightmare?” Smile spreading slowly, Logan was pretty sure he wasn’t even actually awake. But, if it was a dream, Veronica wouldn’t have been leaving.    
  
    “Go back to sleep, I haveta go,” Leaving one last kiss on his cheek, Veronica forced her legs to move, and put her clothes back on.  _ Yesterday’s clothes _ , she chided herself; she was still going to need to stop home.    
  
    “I love you,” Logan said to dream-Veronica, in a near whisper. When he opened his eyes again, hours later, he was alone but could still smell her shampoo in his bed, and that counted for something. A lot, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	26. Saturday Morning Special

    In her fresh shirt and jeans, Veronica only hoped her dad was  feeling especially like a morning person that Saturday morning. Coffee already in his hands when she stepped into the office, his introductory glare didn’t look promising.   
  
    “Ah, Veronica. Tell me something, do we have two office schedules around here or were you trying to keep your early morning meeting a secret?” Stepping aside, Keith smiled reluctantly and false, at Weevil sitting behind him on the office couch.    
  
   Smile pressed into a thin line, Veronica jerked her head at Weevil, a sign to move towards the door. “Ah, did I forget to get my field trip paperwork signed again?” Pushing Weevil out the door, Veronica gave her dad a quick kiss on the cheek, and grabbed the travel mug of coffee he’d left on her desk. “Me and Weevil have an errand to run, I’ll be back soon, okay?”    
  
    While not an explicit demand of trust from her father, Veronica chewed her lip knowing she had a lie already prepped if he pressed her for an answer. Thankfully, he let her swing out of the office uninterrogated, and she didn't even have to deploy the lie on the tip of her tongue.    
  
   “Why is it that you can’t wait outside,” Veronica sighed, catching up to Weevil.    
  
    “Nice try; you’re  _ late.  _ What was I supposed to do, stand out here in the cold?” Weevil grumbled at the warm California breeze, and followed her back to her car. “Thanks though, for the thing with that guy McCormack. He got me out, and Lamb’s pissed, so there’s that bonus.”    
  
    “Cliff’s a good guy; if he can do anything for you-”   
  
    “That’s what he said. I guess you’re dad doesn’t know what we’re… I’m insulted you didn’t put me in your date-book, Mars. I'm usually the kind of guy girls love meeting their daddies.” Up early on a weekend, Weevil shook his head. If he didn’t end up needing her favors so often, he would’ve stopped paying her back a long time ago- and Weevil had the feeling they both knew that.    
  
    Starting her car, Veronica didn’t have to try not to wince. Did Mrs. Navarro know the things Weevil did when he left her house? Veronica was positive that would be a resounding and emphatic ‘no.’    
  
    “So where are we going?” She wasn’t worried about showing up to a meeting she wasn’t invited to, she was worried about who else would be at the meeting. “Who else knows about my dad’s investigation into Moorehead and the mayor’s extra-special relationship?”   
  
    The list of people the case implicated, wasn’t a particularly long one, in Veronica’s opinion. She couldn’t imagine many people, aside from Mayor Goodman and Principal Moorehead themselves, who would want to interrupt the investigation, or who would even know about it.    
  
    “Make a right, here.” Weevil instructed, and Veronica listened. “Look, V, I’m only here to get the rest of the money the guy owes me. That’s it.” He rolled his eyes at Veronica’s dramatic sigh.    
  
    “And I’m what…. Your muscle? Your ride? You need my help, and I want yours.” Veronica snapped, even as she followed Weevil’s pointing to take the next left. “I’ll wait in the car, you’ll get paid and point him out, and I’ll know what kind of-” Recognizing the street they were on, whose office they were driving right towards, Veronica felt years of lifespan dissipate. If she took up smoking and found a new profession she figured she might live a little longer. Her voice dipped into a dry register, “We’re here, aren’t we?”   
  
    “Told you, I thought you knew him. I don’t think Moorehead’s hands in the PTA's bake-sale money is the draw for this guy,” Weevil smirked, he couldn’t help it.    
  
   “Mars’ Investigations is,” She sighed, parking her car in front of Vinnie Van Lowe’s office, bracing herself for the stink of douchebag to cling to her clothes just by nature of proximity. “You think he’d look good in a jumpsuit? I feel like orange could really be his color.” Not knowing who Weevil’s guy was, Veronica had been on edge about his identity. Knowing it was Vinnie Van Lowe, and probably some sort of private-investigative bone to pick, didn’t ease Veronica’s mind. “You know, Vinnie’s sleazy but he isn’t this stupid. If he was willing to risk hiring you to steal my dad’s information from Clemmons,’ he probably has something worth the risk,” She shrugged at Weevil, wondering he knew at all what it could be that Vinnie had.   
  
    “Should we go find out what it is?” Weevil tapped his thumb against his knee, looking to her.    
  
    “You wanna go chase a lead, Mr. Navarro?” Voice just this side of patronization, Veronica jumped out of the car before his disapproving glare caught up with her.    
  
    “Well, since I’ve given up chasing blondes,” Weevil exhaled through his teeth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna get back to posting this one way more regularly again, know it's been awhile. i went on a cruise, i wrote other things, and i figured out how i want this one to end!


	27. The Name

    “Saturday morning, really not my usual office hours, Veronica Mars.” Vinnie sat at his desk, bacon-egg-and-cheese still wrapped in front of him, and he didn’t stand when Veronica and Weevil walked into his office.  
  
    “Mine, either, you know.” Weevil reached for the sandwich on Vinnie’s desk, and took a bite, smiling back at Veronica, when Vinnie just gaped and lost his appetite.  
  
    “Look, I _asked_ your dad about his new projects.” Swiping the sandwich back from Weevil, Vinnie smiled wide. “He declined to cooperate, despite all the benefits of a mutual partnership. We’re small fish in this pond, come on, V, you know that. A _big_ story- a _really_ big story, dragged out into the public by two of the best private eyes in the lower California area? We’d get to be bigger fish over- _night_.” Leaning back in his chair, Vinnie was content when it looked like Veronica was mulling over his proposal- at least giving it more thought than her father. But then she folded her arms, and worried him.  
  
    “I work cases concerning my local high school; how many big _stories_ do you really think are breaking at Neptune High?” Veronica played a shallow bluff, and wasn’t surprised when Vinnie only snorted. Neptune High had it’s share of serious scandals- and she was sure he didn’t have the full story on most of them. “My friend here says you asked him for a favor.” Eyes to Weevil, Veronica laughed in her head about being the muscle.        
  
        Veronica rolled her eyes at how often Vinnie leaned into the cliches of private eyes being nosey men, with stick-on moustaches, snooping through people’s garbage.

 

    "You should let your creepy wannabe-buddy-cop crush on my dad go; we're not interested in a partnership, thanks but no thanks. You should let that fake moustache go too, while you're at it," Veronica shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. A headache the size of Neptune-- the break-in, Weevil's packet, her strained relationship with Lamb-- over Vinnie Van Lowe wanting to get his hands on what the Mars-family dinner discussions looked like lately.

 

    "Don't be so hasty, little Veronica Mars," Defensively, Vinnie felt for his moustache, and clicked his tongue at her. "This time, you actually _do_ need my help." He smiled, first at Veronica, and then at Weevil. "I can quickly and quietly handle your Sheriff Lamb _problem_." With a sly wink, Vinnie made Veronica's skin crawl, but Weevil nodded at her to keep listening.

 

    "Moonlighting as an exterminator these days?" Veronica had the distinct mental image of a big boot, stamping Lamb out like the cockroach he was, but shook her head. "I don't have a problem with Lamb," Veronica looked at Weevil-- like when she'd watched Lamb arresting him, like she was saying more to him than she was saying aloud, "I haven't committed any felonies lately; Lamb's not my problem." With a dramatic roll of her eyes, and an innocent shrug that had her shoulders by her ears, Veronica spun to face the door, preparing to exit unless Vinnie gave her a ready reason to stay.

 

    " _And_ ," Vinnie continued, and waited for her to turn around and hear him out.

 

    Weevil barely held back a whistle, shaking his head. In this room, she _was_ the muscle, he was just there for the visual.

 

    " _And?_ " Veronica prompted, waiting for Vinnie to spill what he had to. If she had to bet money she didn't have, Veronica would've put it all that Vinnie knew exactly who Weevil was when he hired him. Unable to be impressed by him, Veronica conceded that however slimey she found him, he wasn't always completely brainless.

 

    " _And_ , I have a name for you, in return for your word that cooperation between our investigations will be a hot press topic that your father pushes, once this story goes public." Vinnie didn't break eye contact, and Veronica could buy that he thought he was onto something real, something worth the trouble he'd gone to get her there.

 

    "Fine." Veronica's hands dropped into her pockets, "I'll check out your name, and if it's something legitimate," she mustered her best doubtful glance, "then you'll have been a very helpful investigative ally. And- you'll make Weevil's Lamb problem disappear?"

 

    Weevil smiled,he’d been starting to feel forgotten,  "Aww, V, you do care."

 

    "The Sheriff's a close personal friend of my business," Vinnie nodded, "if I point him in another direction, the break-in at the school will go away; you know how kids these days like to pull your  harmless pranks."  
  
    Veronica could only imagine how the special relationship between Vinnie and Lamb formed; she figured there was a lot of space in her dad's shadow for common resentment to be a bonding agent.

 

    "So... the name?" Flicking her bangs from her eyes, Veronica brought a pen and paper from her pockets, ready to write.

 

    When Vinnie stalled, and Weevil flexed an impatient, warning glare, the private eye peeled off his fake moustache, and sighed.

 

    "You've heard of Monica Lewinsky?" Vinnie asked, watching Veronica's face go comically flat. "That's not the name, but it'll be up there soon. Jennifer Morris. Look her up, talk to her; she's legit. We'll be in-touch about my compensation," he laughed.

 

    "Keep laughing, please." Weevil taunted, "Don't make me get _in-touch_ about the rest of _my_ compensation."

 

    Vinnie's hands up in surrender, Veronica kept her eyes down on her notepad, not to see payment for illegal activities going down right in front of her. She was sure Lamb's special friendship could only look past so much, even for a guy like Vinnie.

 

    "It's been fun," Veronica mock-saluted, ready to hit high-gear about how a Jennifer Morris could be connected to their investigation into the mayor and principal. Walking back to her car, Veronica was already scheming a cover story for how to tell her father where she got this tip; if it turned out to be anything. The Monica Lewinsky nudge, had Veronica's mind working angles about the girl the mayor talked about on the phone. But, she would have to investigate. Most of Vinnie's talk came with a big side of salt, as far as Veronica was concerned.

 

    "So, are you in like a band or something?" Weevil got back into the passenger-side; they weren't on his side of town, after all. After a year of her hitching rides on his motorcycle every time her car decided to take a nap, Weevil figured she could be his ride home this once. Besides, if he was late to leave for church his grandmother was going to lecture, again.

 

   "What?" Veronica laughed, confused.

 

    "I don't know, the way you played that guy, I just figured..."

 

   "Uh, you're welcome, by the way." Veronica shook her head; Saturday morning, she should've been over-sleeping in her boyfriend's bed, not chasing down half-leads to cover a gang-member's ass.

 

    First thing back at the office, Veronica had a Jennifer Morris to track down. Even if she was suspect of Vinnie's detective work, and especially his methods, she still had a name to go on.


	28. Jennifer and Jenna Morris, with a side of Pepperoni

    Veronica was pretty sure she found the right Jennifer Morris; down to vague connections with Moorehead and Goodman. For once, Vinnie Van Lowe had a tip she could actually covet and use. She swallowed a crack about broken clocks even being right twice.  
  
     _Jennifer Jane Morris. Born March 12, 1965, Neptune, California._ Only child of her family, attended Neptune High School in the early 1980s, graduated without honors because of a disciplinary incident-  
  
    “Please tell me you’ve at least slept this weekend.” Logan peeked into Mars’ Investigations, not surprised but slightly startled by the piles of paperwork that surrounded Veronica. Retroactively knocking, Logan held up coffee and pizza, hoping it’d at least get him in the door.   
  
    “I… napped,” She said defensively, standing away from her desk for the first time in hours, and realized the havoc she’d brought on her workspace. Taking her coffee with a kiss, she checked her watch with a wince; she’d really had other cases to work, but Jennifer Morris had been a long thread to pull. “Thank you for the coffee. And is that pepperoni I smell? Echolls, you really know how to get to a girl.” Taking a slice from the box, she hovered, cheese and grease instantly reminding her that she hadn’t eaten much since her meeting with Vinnie.   
  
    “Your dad called, actually.” He broached the subject with its necessary weighted cautiousness; fearful that if Veronica smelled an ambush she’d retract. “He said he’s upstate for tonight, and he was worried,” Logan said, in a tone that betrayed his own concerns. “ _Very_ , I would say, considering he called in the big guns,” he motioned to himself.   
  
    Licking sauce from her top lip, Veronica shrugged with  just a hint of guilt.  
  
    “Yesterday morning, when I…” _Walk of shame_ wasn’t a phrase Veronica was about to let come out of her mouth, “Came in after certain all-night gold-star-sticker escapades, it didn’t help my case for paternal-leniency that Weevil was waiting on me.” Continuing her dinner, Veronica couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was onto something _real_ with Jennifer Morris, but… the other night had been, nice… and she wouldn’t pass up the chance for a repeat performance. “Anyway, I’m sorry he called you, I’m obviously fine I’ve just been-”  
  
    “Seriously depleting the state of California’s tree reserves,” Logan smiled, eyeing the piles of paperwork littering her office- her _dad’s_ office. “Don’t worry, I have an in with the mayor if they try to fine you.” Flashing her a twisted grin, a reminder of their two-man team against the mayor’s office, Logan drummed his fingers on the corner of her desk. A year of the school calling her a slut, a year of _him_ calling her a slut, Logan was happy they'd gotten over the  _escapade_ -hurtle without major incident. Pressing the issue... “So do I get my gold star sticker _now_ , or…”   
  
    Pulling a yellow sticky note from her top drawer, Veronica scribbled a star-shape on it and reached to stick it to Logan’s forehead.   
  
    “Ah,” He unstuck it from his face, but pressed it to the corner of his shirt.   
  
    “You know when other ladies see that, they’re gonna know… I better get my stick ready to beat ‘em off.” Pizza forgotten, Veronica let herself be pulled into Logan’s arms, forgetting for just a second about her caseload, her homework, Jennifer Morris. His hands wandered down to the studded belt on her hips, thumbs feeling the bumps around her waist, as he kissed her.   
  
    “Here I thought you were a revolutionary with the taser.” Lips brushing her cheek, Logan couldn’t push the thought away that her dad wasn’t in Neptune.   
  
    “Stick works, too.” She kissed along his chin, up on her tip toes without realizing it. Taking a breath, Veronica relished the headrush that came with Logan Echolls. The comfortable spin of the world that seemed normal in his arms. She traced her fingertip along the star she’d messily drawn. “Say, are you content with just _one_ sticker? I hear it’s tough, but… you could go for the unprecedented two.”  
  
  
    “The sticker committee must really like me, huh?” Thumb back up to her face, stroking blonde bangs behind her ear, Logan pulled her in for another kiss. “Enough to say, stop working early?” Eyes back on her desk, Logan tried to keep the whine in his throat when Veronica bit her lip dramatically.   
  
    “I’ll make you a deal,” She started, placing her hands on his shoulders; a better… negotiating position.   
  
    Sighing over-dramatically, his eyes swung in a big roll.  
  
    “Another half hour, to finish my background file on a Jennifer and her kid, Jenna Morris, and then…” Veronica’s hand wandered over the sticky note pressed to his shirt, a symbol of their night _together._   
  
    “You take me home and have your way with me?” Lips at her throat, Logan took the sigh that escaped her as a tacit agreement. “Finish, finish,” Logan pushed one last kiss into her hair, and then backed up to finish his pizza on the office couch. “A half hour, not a half-second more, ready…. Start.”  
  
    Back at her desk, Veronica picked her pen up and got back to work, Logan’s pizza-munching and oh-so-casual glances her way notwithstanding.  
  
     _Jennifer Jane Morris. Born March 12, 1965, Neptune, California._ Only child of her family, attended Neptune High School in the early 1980s, graduated without honors because of a disciplinary incident her senior year, which Vice Principal Moorehead sealed her permanent file for. On September 14, 1983, the summer after her senior year, Jennifer gave birth to a baby girl, named Jenna Morris, no father on the birth certificate. A year after Jenna’s birth, Jennifer moved out of her parents’ home in Neptune, and into a rundown apartment complex in the ‘02 part of town, temporarily, and then years later resurfaced in San Diego.  
  
    “Time’s up,” Logan swung his legs off the couch, determined to be sprawled in her bed, and soon.   
  
    “Pencils down?” Veronica surrendered; at some point, even the coffee couldn’t keep her up forever. And tonight, she wouldn’t be going home to just her dog.   


* * *

  
  
    “Your bed has more room,” Veronica’s voice was muffled with sleep still, squinting at the clock on her table.   
  
    “Your bed has more you,” Logan’s fingertips reached for hers in the dim light of breaking day. Monday dragged them out of bed, and to school, but Logan held her hand as long as possible.


	29. Black Out

       "And lastly, with finals rapidly approaching, this year tutoring and study sessions will be available in the library during lunch periods and after school, for students who'd like to attend. Thank you, and have a good day."

 

    Clemmons signed off the morning announcements, and Veronica rolled her eyes at Wallace, next to her in the hall.

 

    "Like we need the reminder that finals week is coming." Veronica dragged her feet to her locker. She'd survive finals week- she always had before- but there was an urgency to the upcoming end of school days. With summer coming, Veronica anticipated Moorehead's impending retirement announcement any day- despite the secret, massive eye of scandal swirling over his head.

 

    "Only two more weeks, about ten more tests, and then beach days and summer, and extra-shifts at Sac N Pac til September. And you know what's on the beach?" Wallace brightened, eyebrows going suspiciously suggestive.

 

    "Sand?" Veronica teased, predicting his next words.

 

    "Hunnies in bikinis, how'd you guess?" He laughed. In practically no time at all, Neptune was to be overrun with tourists and beach goers, and all the accompanying joys of summer. But first, Wallace had to get through finals, and even before that he had to contend with the face Veronica was shooting him. The one that was waiting for a lull in the conversation before she asked some expellable-grade task of him.

 

    "So," She smiled, "Can you do me a favor? The sooner the better." Head ducked down, Veronica paused for Wallace's reluctant but dependable nod. "How far back do the school's permanent files go?" Leaning against her locker, Veronica wished Neptune High would get with the century and go digital already. "I need a... vintage permanent file." She beamed a grateful, winning smile at him. Teeth and all.

 

    "You know what else is great about summer?" Wallace sighed, " _Neither_ of us has access to those permanent records in the office." Shaking his head, he frowned; only two more weeks. "Give me the name and the graduating year and I'll see what I can do."

 

    Slipping the tiniest torn scrap of note-pad into his palm, Veronica thanked him. Scribbled in her quick print, _Jennifer Jane Morris, class of June 1983_ , told him everything he asked for.

 

    "You're a prince, Wallace," She squeezed his shoulder, meaning every word.

 

    "Was that so hard?" Laughing, Wallace accepted his praise and then some, wondering about _Jennifer_ but knowing better than to ask, yet.

 

    The bell rang, and third period started. _Only two more weeks and about ten more tests_.

* * *

 

    “Mr. Echolls, this table has been declared a cram-free zone,” Veronica dropped into her spot at her lunch table, kissing his cheek hello, laughing at the way he was hunched over a math textbook. Finals did crazy things to students, she was seeing it with her own eyes.  
  
    “In the announcement, Clemmons made the tutoring sound oh-so deliciously voluntarily, and easily skippable.” Logan closed his textbook, gladly. “Mrs. Snores-A-Lot-”  
  
    “Our math teacher,” Veronica nodded along.  
  
    “Exactly,” Logan smiled, ”is threatening to make me go to _mandatory_ tutoring if I don’t hand in ten homeworks I missed this semester. If I don’t hand in the homeworks, _and_ don’t go to the tutoring, she’s not gonna let me take the final. Not even gonna let me look at it.” For five whole seconds he’d considered bribing his math teacher, (didn’t public school pay suck?), but the threat of mandatory tutoring loomed large. To him, tutoring sounded an awful lot like detention with homework. Was he an Echolls for nothing, now?  
  
    “I _see_ ,” Veronica twisted her expression to try and mask at least some degree of her entertainment; Logan was _begging_ to take a math test, and that was just too funny a thought. “And with a zero on the final…” She prompted.  
  
    “That summer _plan_ I have, of being on a beach, or on a yacht, or on you…” he smirked, “ _instead_ gets ground up into a daydream I have when I’m sitting in summer school.”  
  
    Wordlessly, Veronica dug in her backpack for a green folder full of math homeworks.  
  
    “I’m not condoning cheating I’m…” she stopped, looking for the right words, despite his annoyingly pleased face.  
  
     “Aiding and abetting cheating?” Taking the green folder from her, Logan kissed just under her ear.  
  
    “Helping you _study_ ,” Veronica euphemised, and gave him a soft kick under the table. She had a summer plan, too; it involved lots of laying on yachts, and maybe even on Logan. That involved him  _not_ being in summer school, and Veronica really tried to look at it as helping. Maybe by copying her homeworks he'd learn a few of the formulas or some of the principles; the intent to help was there.  
  
    Wallace’s disapproving face approached, and Logan slid a few inches down the bench from Veronica, back to his food.  
     

    "Okay, so I had to do some digging, literally; there are about a million and one files in the storage office- but," Wallace gave her a second, made her wait for it.

 

    "You found it." Veronica's eyes lit up a shade. Wallace, wallace, wallace. Trying hard not to feel spoiled, she reminded herself that maybe there was still nothing in the file.

 

    "I found it." Sliding the file across the lunch table to her, Wallace smiled proud. "Jennifer Morris, class of 1983; and there's something really weird in it," he added.

 

    Definitely spoiled. While she tore into the file, Logan slid her french fries to himself, and Wallace swiped her chocolate pudding cup. Veronica was sitting right there, but she'd left the building; especially once she got to the meat of the matter.

  
    “It’s _blacked out_?” Veronica blinked. Parts of the file were literally shaded over in black ink; the parts that concerned Jennifer Morris’ disciplinary record, and the _incident_ that had her skip graduation, seven months pregnant. At the top of the inked out page, also in black marker, there was the initials _A.M._ “Alan Moorehead,” Veronica pursed her lips. “He signed his work,” She muttered to herself. “Clemmons was still a teacher here in ‘83, right?”  
  
    Wallace and Logan were only half-sure she was talking to them, and Wallace just shrugged.  
  
    “What would be so bad they had to black _out_ the permanent file no one would look at, anyway?” Trying to connect dots she didn’t have yet, Veronica folded the file closed. Until her senior year, Jennifer Morris had a stellar academic record, and nearly perfect attendance. _I have to figure out what happened to her,_ Veronica obeyed the growling in her stomach and took some of her french fries back.  
  
    “You’re looking at it,” Wallace pointed out, and Logan smiled. “Does that mean it’s related?”  
  
    The initials were branded in Veronica’s brain. Moorehead was instrumental in covering up the disciplinary actions levied against Jennifer; he at least had to know what the reprimand was for.  
  
     “It means I’m gonna find out.”


	30. Cold Case, Red Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for rape mentions, again.

   “Hey, Pops. I need you to call the principal.” Veronica heard her dad coming in the office and flashed her sweetest, best-daughter-award-acceptance-speech smile. Resting her elbows on her desk, and her face on her hands, Veronica tried to play up her innocent-and-cute factor.   
  
    “Honey, do we need to have a talk about my hands-off style parenting, again? If you got detention, Veronica, you’re gonna haveta go.” Keith leaned forward, kissing his daughter hello, and took the seat on the opposite side of her desk.    
  
    Wagging her finger as a sound  _ no _ , Veronica huffed a sigh.    
  
    “Clemmons would have to  _ catch me _ to give me detention, and we both know that didn’t happen.” In Veronica’s real life chess-match between the tortoise and the hare, when she was the hare, she won. “However, I need to extract some valuable information from him. And you have a long, checkered past of being…”   
  
    “A good extraction tool?” Keith tried to lecture using just his eyes;  _ he _ thought it worked well.    
  
    “He’s not going to talk to me about this.” She explained, deciding to put all her cards on the table; she wasn’t working the Moorehead case alone anymore, and even if she had to tell him about Vinnie, she was going to tell her dad about Jennifer. “Does the name Jennifer Morris ring a bell?” Biting her lip, Veronica hated asking questions she didn’t already know the answer to. Since her dad  _ had _ started the case before her, it was  _ possible _ -   
  
    “Why?” Keith asked, leaning his elbow on her desk. “What does a twenty-year-old rape case have to do with Clemmons?”    
  
    Veronica balked. “Rape case? Jennifer Morris was raped? When?” Clicking on her computer, Veronica logged in to the database that had the best collection of public police records, and after a few seconds was staring at a police report, detailing Jennifer Jane Morris’ 1983 rape claim.    
  
    “She was seventeen, I think, at a New Years Eve party one of her friends threw, consumed a lot of alcohol and-”   
  
    “I see it.” Veronica went terse, for only a second. “Wait a minute, when you started at the Sheriff’s office  _ this _ was one of the cold cases they had you push papers on before they let you do anything current?”    
  
    “It was. Ms.Morris wouldn’t talk to police again, she said her first interviews and accusations were humiliating enough. I wanted to help her, I really tried, especially for the baby, but there was nothing for me to investigate without getting a new statement from her. You can see the original report on there, it was practically blank, the deputy that filled it out was gone by the time I was hired.” Keith shook his head, “When I called him, he told me she was just a drunk and embarrassed kid.”    
  
    “He thought she was  _ crying rape _ ,” Flexing her hands in her lap, Veronica tried to focus on reshaping the puzzle of how Moorehead and the mayor fit together, with Jennifer Morris. Heat burning her cheeks, Veronica tried to take a few breaths, remembering her experience with Lamb, trying to report her rape. At least Jennifer’s deputy took a report, at all; Veronica bit her cheek til she tasted copper. “Wait, for the  _ baby? _ Jennifer…”  _ Gave birth the September after her senior year; the September after she was raped in January.  _ “Jennifer got pregnant,” Veronica whispered, her lip giving just the slightest tremble before she covered it with her hand.    
  
    “I think so, and she did. But even years later, when I worked the cold case, she didn’t seem _confused_ or embarrassed, she seemed…” Trying to remember the interview, Keith realized he still didn’t know why they were discussing a twenty year old rape case. “Back up a sec, honey, why do  _ you _ know the name Jennifer Morris?”    
  
    With a deep, calming sigh, Veronica took her dad through the peaks and valleys that led her to Jennifer Morris. Weevil’s packet, included in her list of clues this time, and how Vinnie knew about their investigation, and had given her the Jennifer tip, in return for kickbacks at a later date, and eventually back to why she needed him to call Clemmons.    
  
    “He was a teacher in 1983, and he might be the only one who knows what happened,” Veronica chewed her lip, “besides Moorehead, who obviously doesn’t want anyone  _ else  _ to know what happened.” She held up the blacked-out permanent file. She’d tried everything since school let out, holding it up to light, scraping off the ink, trying to rub off traces of the original hand-written parts; nothing yielded the answer to what was written on the page.    
  
    Running his hand down his face, Keith sighed. “Do vice principals still love getting their asses kissed?” He asked, trying to work a smile out of Veronica, who’d gone serious.    
  
    “Do private eyes?” Half-attempting something of a smirk, Veronica deflated again. “Not Mr.C though, he’s kind of a stickler for integrity, usually. Hence, he won’t talk to me.” Veronica didn’t mean that to sound as self-deprecating as it did. “He told me he asked you not to talk to me about the case.”   
  
   With a guilty glance up, Veronica saw her dad’s scandalized blink.    
  
    “I  _ didn’t _ tell you about the case,” scoffing, “though apparently about everyone else in Neptune  _ has  _ talked to you. Eli, Vinnie,” Keith shook his head, ‘I’m gonna talk to him, honey, he shouldn’t have gone to you.”    
  
    “I tried to tell Vinnie that you’re the softer Mars, but he wouldn’t listen.” With an exaggerated shrug, Veronica handed her dad the phone on her desk. “Call my principal, please. We have fish to fry.” Tapping the blacked-out page with her pointer finger impatiently, Veronica watched Keith roll his eyes. She knew he may not have understood the weight of their case now involving maybe-covering-up a rape, but there was no way Veronica could walk away now.    
  
    “I really am the softer Mars,” Shaking his head, Keith handed her the phone back. “I’ll take this one in my office, honey.” He leaned over again, kissing her cheek, and sat at his desk, and dialed.    
  
    Chewing a fingernail, Veronica didn’t love that idea, but she heard her dad’s work-voice turn on and, oh  _ god _ did she really have a work-voice like that? She was gonna owe Wallace a batch of snickerdoodles. 


	31. San Diego, On Business

     Bumping into Logan in the hallway, on her way to meet him, was convenient if not entirely graceful.   
  
     “ _Just_ the indulgent boyfriend I was looking for,” Veronica reached up around his neck, pulling him down to her lips in a hello.   
  
    “You told the others to get lost, then?” Logan teased against her cheek, running a finger from her jaw to her collarbone. “And I _am_ pretty indulgent, aren’t I?” His shoulders shook in a laugh.   
  
    “Obviously. That’s why you wanna take a sweet trip out to San Diego with me after school today.” Smiling big, Veronica tangled her fingers in his, hoping he’d say yes. She’d go alone, or maybe with Weevil, but Logan’s company and entertainment left little to be desired. She remembered the trip to Arizona, where the whole time she’d felt like she was driving to the morgue, and he’d _still_ been fun. “I have a current address for Jennifer Morris.” Tugging his hand all the way to the girl’s bathroom, she backed them both in and took the cursory glance under the stalls. _Coast clear._   
  
    “You wanna leave right now?” Logan leaned against the chipped sink, already smiling at her. “I only have math left and-”  
  
   “And you have ten homeworks to hand in,or you face the sudden and crushing doom of summer school, remember?” Veronica tried to be aware, or at least semi-aware, that not everyone took things as seriously as she did; even, or especially, Logan.   
  
    “Hey, I just wanna be properly indulgent; don’t want those other guys beating me out for boyfriend tomorrow cause I didn’t rally hard enough to blow off math.” Kissing her chin, Logan’s lips tickled against soft skin.   
  
    “No other guys,” Veronica shook her head, and pulled him in for another kiss, “go to math, and then properly indulge. I’m just not sure what I’ll find is San Diego, is the thing I’m worried about.” Still tilting her head to his kiss, Veronica felt him stop, but she was still pulled close to him.   
  
    “You? The great Neptune Nancy Drew? Worried?” Logan mocked taking her temperature, in case she was feeling at all sick. “You feel fine to me… what’s up, Bobcat?” He nipped his lips at her forehead.   
  
    “Jennifer had her rapist’s baby. Her rape, that was never formally solved, but I think she knows who it was; and if she had his baby…” Veronica played with the ends of her hair, flicking it’s tips between her fingers. Mostly, Veronica was afraid that somehow Jennifer had been convinced to move to San Diego to raise the baby with her rapist, and that’s why she hadn’t wanted to reopen the rape investigation.   
  
    “Hey, I’m there, Veronica.” Logan sobered, momentarily, picturing Veronica dating Duncan after everything he knew now. _The stuff of horror flicks, no thank you._ “Math, and then San Diego, and then next- the _moon_ ,” Waving his hand dramatically, Logan brought it back down to cup her chin, eyeing the two of them in the bathroom mirror. She’d taken care of him, drunk, here, once. Now they got to take care of eachother.   
  
    “Math first.” She nodded, giving him one slow, parting kiss.  

* * *

  
  
   “855 Mimosa Lane, San Diego, California.” An uneasy sigh escaping her lips, Veronica knew she was going to have to check in with her dad at some point. Hopefully, Jennifer would be willing to help and make her impending punishment worth it. A small lump formed in the back of her throat, and Veronica tried to shake her head and send it away. It wouldn’t help to treat this one different, it just wouldn’t; Veronica reassured herself.   
  
    “Cute little porch,” Logan commented. It wasn’t exactly a piece of prime real estate, Logan was glad Veronica asked him to come for this. Somewhere in the regular parent’s handbook he was positive there was a stern talking-to about knocking on strangers’ doors. Or maybe answering the door for strangers? Oh well, he didn’t have very normal parents.   
  
    Easing up the driveway, and making their way to the front door, Veronica licked her lips, and flicked hair from her face. “Follow my lead?” She asked Logan, as she knocked on the door.   
  
   “Always,” he smoothed his hand down her back, and thought he saw her shoulders relax.   
  
    “Hi, there!” Veronica turned on the cheer, when a woman answered the door. “So sorry to bother you, we’re from the Neptune High School Reunion Committee, and we just wanted to formally invite you to the-”  
  
    “I won’t be going to any reunion,” the woman shook her head, straightening against the door jam. “Sometimes, high school doesn’t need a refresher.” With a soft smile, the woman shook her head. “But you kids are probably still in high school, right? Don’t listen to me, enjoy yourselves. Maybe even go to reunions. Thanks, but no thanks.” She tried to wave them off, but Veronica smiled insistently.   
  
    “Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions about your high school years, then? For you know, the _Where They Are Now_ scrapbook. What better way to stick it to your old high school bullies than to brag about how far you’ve come?” Whipping out a notepad and pencil from her bag, Veronica thought the woman’s pause was at least a good sign. “Now, you’re Ms. Morris, right?” One breath away from crossing her fingers, Veronica hoped she hadn’t done a big thing badly.   
  
    “Jennifer, please. And I’m afraid I don’t have many good stories from high school; but you kids can come in, I’m not gonna make you ask your questions from the porch.” When she turned to let them in the door, Veronica sent Logan a smile, genuine, hopeful smile.   
  
    “Thank you, _Jennifer,_ ” Logan shot a smile that dazzled.  
  
     Jennifer Morris, the name that kept Veronica up for days, and now she was standing in her living room. “Um, any kids or grandkids you want to brag about?” Pencil between her teeth, Veronica eyed the family portraits that littered the living room walls. For the most part, Jennifer Morris’ home was lovely, if a bit cramped.   
  
    “Two wonderful children, yes. No husband, I don’t know if that’s really bragging, though. Old Cindy Lucchese would’ve teased me mercilessly for that in high school. Two wonderful kids and a big lug of a dog,” Jennifer shrugged, like she was asking if that counted.   
  
    “Probably not as big of a lug as my dog,” Veronica was scribbling into her pad, but she wanted Jennifer at ease.   
  
    “Don’t be fooled, she trained her big lug to attack.” Smiling still, Logan thought he was feeling just the outer edges of awkwardness creeping on, but he didn’t know if trying more or trying _less_ would help.   
  
    “Oh, you don’t really want to mess with Piper, either,” Jennifer looked around, but maybe he was outside, or upstairs. “He’s clumsy, is all; plus he has big teeth. Uh, was there anything else I could help you with?”   
  
    Veronica bit her lip, and took a breath. _Hey, who raped you, by the way?_  Wasn’t going to be on the High School Reunion Questionnaire. But Jennifer had been so nice, so far. Taking one last look at Logan, she gave a small nod, and he knew things were about to get way more intense than big, clumsy dogs.   
  
    “Actually, Ms. Morris, we’re just juniors from Neptune high school,” Veronica started, trying to backtrack her way into the truth. “I’m not with the Reunion Committee.” Her stomach turned just thinking about how _awful_ a club like that would be. Certain she was on Jennifer’s side, Veronica was pretty sure she’d never attend a reunion. _Unless maybe I had a case there?_ She refocused, trying to figure out Jennifer’s countenance; trying to determine if they were about to be kicked out.  
  
    “Obviously.” The woman laughed, shaking her head, “Every five years I get letters about reunions, and no one’s ever personally come to collect my rsvp envelope. What is this about?” Turning suspicious but not hostile, Jennifer wasn’t eager to relive anything about her high school years, and couldn’t think of a good reason anyone would be asking about them.   
  
    “I…” Veronica stalled. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been tongue-tied, and adding this moment to that short list would’ve been unbearable. “Someone’s been syphoning the school’s city funding, for years now, and I’m trying to put Alan Moorehead behind bars for taking the money instead, as blackmail payments for his silence; his silence about the decreased funding, and other things.” Like a band-aid, Veronica tried to keep moving through the burn, she just tried to make sure she didn’t stop. “I think one of those other things he’s tried to cover up, is the reason you didn’t attend your high school graduation.”   
  
    Watching the woman stiffen in front of them, Logan figured Veronica didn’t notice herself stiffen, too.   
  
   “The reason I didn’t go to graduation, was because I wasn’t allowed to go.” Taking a step back, literally distancing herself from them, helped Jennifer catch her breath.   
  
   “Why not?” Logan could stop himself from asking the follow up, even as he counted on Veronica to.   
  
    “I was six months pregnant with my daughter Jenna, and it’d already caused enough of a buzz in the high school and town. That’s all?”   
  
    Veronica thought she heard a tremor in Jennifer’s voice, “Maybe we could sit down? My name is Veronica Mars,” she still talked slow, like she was trying to explain everything to herself, Logan, and Jennifer, all for the first time. Even her name, even who her father was, she still had to reassure herself that her dad had always been Keith- she’d always been a Mars.   
  
    “The cop’s daughter.” Jennifer nodded slowly, like that tracked. “Can I get you both some tea?”  
  
    “Yes, please,” Logan answered, catching Veronica’s pinky between his fingers, low at their sides.   
  
    “Come, sit.” Jennifer called from the kitchen, and Veronica and Logan followed. "I told your father everything I'm going to tell, but I have some questions for  _you._ "   
  
     Veronica figured she'd take it. 


	32. Senior Year, 1983

    “How’s your father?” She smiled, handing Veronica and Logan a mug each, and poured them tea. “He seemed like one of the good ones.”  
  
    Veronica wanted to ask, one of the good _whats,_ but she swallowed the question with a sip tea, when Jennifer spoke again.   
  
    “Did he send you here?” She asked, sitting across the kitchen table from them.   
  
    Veronica shook her head emphatically no, “He’s going to be pissed I’m here, I didn’t even tell him. He’s… not a Sheriff, anymore though; we work together, as private detectives.” Thinking about Vinnie and his fake moustache, Veronica hoped Jennifer’s conversations with her father were enough to override the cartoonish sentiment about private eyes. “That’s how we got the case, about the school leaking public funds to _certain_  private individuals.” Nodding to herself, and maybe Logan, Veronica looked into the dark liquid of her tea.   
  
    “If one of my daughters went out of town without telling me, I’d be pissed, too. Especially knocking on a stranger’s door, alone with a guy that looks like him.” Jennifer eyed the two of them, and fixed her eyes on Logan. “And what’s your story?”   
  
    Logan laughed, he kind of liked this lady, “You actually probably know my story, if you… you know, get Channel 2 here.” Free hand rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Logan Echolls, my dad’s the movie star turned murderer. It’s really family members I have more of a problem with, strangers are usually kind to me.” Saluting his mug as proof, Logan drank. _Never really get to tell that story anymore,_ he sighed.   
  
    With just a beat of awkwardness between the three of them, Veronica met Logan’s eyes. Silently, telling him something, something reassuring.   
  
    “Your mother seems sweet,” Jennifer spoke, “you know, on television,” She trailed off at Logan’s well-rehearsed smile-and-nod. “I still don’t understand so much why you’re here, pretending to interview me for a fake reunion committee. Why do you think I can help you; after all these years? I told your father, no one wanted to listen to my story when it mattered, how could it possibly matter now?” Taking a heavy breath, Jennifer folded her arms across the table, and shook her head.   
  
    “I’m sorry I lied, I just wasn’t sure…” _What I was walking into,_ Veronica didn’t finish. “It’s just, I have a lot of things I want to ask you, and a lot of them are very difficult questions, with very difficult answers, about things I don’t think you’ve talked with anyone about in twenty years. I know no one wanted to listen to you then, and I know it doesn’t help senior-year-of-highschool you, but maybe we could still help you? And maybe your daughter?” Veronica thought she heard the woman swallow a gulp, even from across the table. Levelling her gaze, willing herself to take small, measured baby steps toward truth, Veronica offered a tiny, hopeful glance. “Jennifer, why were you banned from graduation?”   
  
    “Your _father_ didn’t know about that.” Jennifer sounded surprised that anyone’d found that out.   
  
       “Assume she’s read all the Nancy Drew’s,” Logan’s hand skimmed Veronica’s delicate wrist, proud of her for unspeakable reasons. Once, he’d used Nancy Drew as a taunt, but Nancy could probably take a lesson from Veronica Mars. Certainly, at least a lesson about strength.   
  
    “Really a Hardy Boys fan, actually, and I have a bit of technological edge over my father.” Veronica joked to Jennifer, who just shook her head. “Who asked you not to go?”   
  
    Thinning her lips into a straight line, Jennifer brought up memories of herself about as old as the young blonde sitting in front of her. An entire lifetime ago, she’d been that small and young and god, full of energy. “Moorehead was a spineless prick, even decades ago, I think he’s the principal, now?” Jennifer asked, and Logan nodded. “He was a lowly vice principal, then; disliked by almost everyone, but he was too stupid to know it. I was surprised he knew my name, _before_ I was _the_ pregnant senior, he knew my name. By the time he asked me to stay home for graduation, I knew it was coming. I was the black mark on my year, and the administration didn’t want a heavily pregnant seventeen year old waddling across their graduation stage.” She shrugged the story off, or tried to, anyway.   
  
    “Can I show you something?” Veronica was happy she got to ask the questions again, and didn’t need to be the one with the answers, and she was glad it felt like Jennifer was opening up to opening up. Fumbling in her bag, Veronica retrieved the permanent file, and the inked out paper with Moorehead’s initials. “Have you ever seen this?” She asked.   
  
    Logan finished his tea with an audible sip, drawing attention to himself accidentally, and Jennifer shook her head _no_ .   
  
    “Where did you get this?” Turning over the pages of her old permanent record, Jennifer was sure Mr. Mars hadn’t brought this relic with him.   
  
    “I know a guy,” Veronica smiled to Logan, silently thanking Wallace, again. One weekend she really was going to bake him those hard-earned cookies. “Could you… could you tell me what this used to say? Something you would’ve been written up for, disciplinarily?”   
  
    Veronica’s hands weren’t sure what to do with themselves.   
  
    “Oh, you know. Kid stuff, being a teenager.” Jennifer put the paper back in the file, out of sight but not out of mind, and Veronica decided how to gracefully call _bullshit._   
  
    Logan watched her face shift, “No offense, but I have an impressive disciplinary file, seriously extensive, full of vandalism and on-campus alcohol throwing and even I know what’s on every one of those pages in my file. And none of them are blacked out, and it’s not because I wasn’t _trying_ to cause scandal, I was bringing my A-game, I swear it.”   
  
    Somewhere in Veronica’s withering glare, there were notes of gratefulness when Jennifer decided to speak, again.   
  
    “There may have been an incident.” Jennifer fought the urge to lie to them, to make something up and never tell the truth to anyone, like she hadn’t yet. Clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking irrationally, she tried to decided if once she’d started telling the truth she’d be able to stop.  “After the winter break,” she inhaled stiffly, “I chased… someone with my car, around the parking lot. I wasn’t really going to hit him, probably.” Jennifer’s eye flashed humor for a second, but tempered itself.   
  
    “Who?” Logan wanted to laugh; if the tone of the kitchen hadn’t been somewhere between the atmosphere of a funeral or a morgue, he might’ve. Imagining Veronica bearing down on the gas pedal of her lebaron, pitying the fool who wronged her; which, in most cases would’ve been him.   
  
    “I really think, you kids should go; it’s getting late, I have work in the morning, no good can come from digging up old stories from high school, believe _that._ ” But Jennifer didn’t get up, she didn’t show them the door, and Veronica seized the moment.   
  
    “Was it Mayor Goodman?” In her smallest voice, Veronica let herself ask the unaskable question, and Jennifer’s smile settled oddly on her face.   
  
    “Woody; we called him Woody back then. His parents, and even his friends always counted on him being class president, a California Senator, even President of the United States. President, really? Our class only ever elected him treasurer, and he ran unopposed. But it was him, yes. I chased him in my father’s pale blue station wagon, I’d hit the gas to get close and then ease off and let him run, over and over, all around the parking lot until he ran to Moorehead’s office. He was a favorite, of Mr. Moorehead’s. I’m sure Moorehead still keeps favorites?” Not waiting for an answer, Jennifer continued what she’d started. “That’s why I was written up, I tried to hit Woody with my car; sort of.” Without a hint of shame, Jennifer only sounded like she regretted maybe not hitting the gas a little harder, not easing off.   
  
    “Why’d you chase him with your car?” Veronica valued truth, maybe over all else, and most importantly, she tried not to fear it. She tried not to let fear of truth control her, ever.   
  
    Jennifer’s eyes had gone glassy in front of them, and Veronica decided it was time to share part of her truth, too.   
  
    “I was raped,” Veronica started, and tried to ignore Logan’s head snapping his focus to her. “I was at a party I didn’t belong at, with people who weren’t really my friends, and I drank too much, and I was drugged, and I woke up sore, without underwear.” Feeling a drip sliding off her cheek, Veronica ignored that, too. “What didn’t happen to me,” she looked up to Jennifer, “is I didn’t get pregnant. I didn’t get justice, I didn’t even know what happened until a year later, but I didn’t get pregnant.” A heavy breath left Veronica’s chest, and she thought she saw tears on Jennifer’s face, too.   
  
    “I love my daughters, both of them; this has nothing to do with either of them, that man has nothing to do with Jenna, she’s a good girl, and the only good thing I ever got out of Neptune.” Jennifer’s whisper was harsh, and brittle, as she reached for Veronica’s hand across the table. “I’m sorry that happened to you, it shouldn’t happen to anybody, but I do _understand_ what you’ve gone through. You haveta understand, when I wanted to press charges, I didn’t talk to _any_ cops like your father. Mr. Moorehead blacked out that file so there wouldn’t be any record of me and Woody ever interacting, and there wasn’t ever a formal procedure of me accusing him of being the one who raped me.”   
  
    Logan found his eyes tearing, too, even as he felt like he was intruding on something profoundly important and personal. As much as he wanted to understand Veronica’s pain, wanted to make it better or less or disappear, Logan saw her breath coming in shaky, uneven intervals. They were sharing their pain, and he was witnessing it; witnessing what he hadn’t help stop. He would’ve left, made an excuse to use the bathroom or run out to the car or chase squirrels or _anything_ , but Veronica had one of his hands in her lap, clinging to it with the hand Jennifer wasn’t holding. Once, he’d left her exposed, and if she needed him there, Jennifer was going to have to tell her story to two.   
  
    “I was like you,” the woman begrudged the similarity, “I didn’t know what happened until much later. A friend of mine heard Woody bragging about… sleeping with me, and after I found out I was pregnant I confronted him with the fact that I didn’t remember us sleeping together at all, and the bruises I woke up with on New Year’s Day 1983 definitely weren’t consensual.” Stopping to catch a shaky breath, she licked her lips. “He denied it, obviously; said I was too drunk, and too much of a slut, to know what I did with who. You know, his family was wealthy, very connected, politically and otherwise, I don’t know what I expected, I don’t know why I was surprised when no one, even the police, would listen to me. The pregnant seventeen year old.”   
  
    Veronica took a deep breath, too.   
  
    “He was wrong,” she said, finding her voice through the lump she couldn’t swallow, “they were wrong to not listen to you; I’m sorry no one listened.” Veronica was wondering if the deputy who took Jennifer’s story was still alive; she had some things she wanted to say to him. Like how he should’ve gone to the wizard, for some courage. The entire point, of being given a position of authority within a community, like a deputy or a sheriff or a principal or a mayor, was to put yourself on the line against people who would abuse their power, to stand against the pressure the community- the Jake Kanes, the Aaron Echolls, the Woody Goodmans of the world- pushed down on you.  Blinking her tears almost clear, Veronica hadn’t anticipated telling Jennifer Morris anything personal, let alone the most personal thing she’d ever experienced. When the hand in her lap cramped from squeezing, Veronica realized she’d been vice-gripping Logan’s left hand for… she wasn’t sure how long.   
  
      “After I had Jenna, I lived with my parents for a little but… I never told them about the rape, they… Were somewhat traditional, and Jenna was a strain on what they expected of me. I couldn’t breathe in Neptune anymore, anyway, Woody was always running for dogcatcher and I never got used to seeing him. I would get nervous going to the grocery store, in case I ran into him. It got silly, towards the end; I was driving a hundred miles to get microwave pizza and baby diapers, because I was afraid he’d find out I had Jenna. He wanted me to… _not_ have her.” Running her thumb over Veronica’s hand, Jennifer smoothed tears from her face with her other hand. “We’ve had a good life in San Diego, and as much as I still want to hit Woody Goodman with my father’s station wagon-”   
  
    Veronica choked a laugh that startled all three of them.   
  
    “Please understand, I’ve told you this in confidence. After I lived here a few years, I met a nice man… we had my second daughter Melissa, and he’s the only father Jenna’s known. Frank, the nice man, died a few years ago; cancer, you know how it is.” Stifling another heave of emotion before it started, Jennifer hiccuped. “I’ve made peace with… _not going to graduation._ ” The woman looked between the two teens, surprised that she’d told them so much, so suddenly.   
  
  
   “Have you told anyone else?” Recentering her brain on the PI-side of things, Veronica felt lighter than she had since she’d heard the name Jennifer Morris.   
  
   “Well…” Jennifer held a tense wince for a moment. “Mr. Moorehead did his due diligence, inquiring about exactly _why_ I was trying to mow down one of his pet pupils on school property.” With a shrug, she tried to pin down Veronica’s expression. “You can see what he did with that information,” Flicking out the blacked-out piece of paper again, Jennifer shook her head.   
  
    “That’s _it_ .” Veronica muttered, mostly to herself. “That piece of paper isn’t all he did with that information; you’ve made Moorehead millions of dollars- you and your daughter. _Millions._ ” Veronica looked around the small kitchen, and first floor of their home. Ms. Morris could’ve used millions of dollars; maybe not of school funding, but… still. “Jenna’s the secret that’s worth ten million dollars. Fathering a child, especially by rape, would ruin the one thing he probably actually cares about.”   
  
    “His career.” Logan felt his fist ball, his jaw already unbearably tight through most of their conversation.   
  
   “Millions of dollars?” Jennifer stuttered, looking to Logan like he could explain it. “Ten million dollars?”   
  
   “I don’t _love_ guessing, but if I had to play a hunch…   a well-investigated hunch,” Veronica nodded, “about six years ago, Moorehead and Goodman attended the same function, and Moorehead put the ugly little pieces together that Woody fathered an illegitimate child by forcing himself on you in his senior year of high school.”   
  
    “And used that to exploit money from Goodman, probably threatening to tell the authorities or contact you, and Goodman… because he’s a self-worshipping, slimey, bloated bit of barely-human, reallocated city funds to pay Moorehead off.” Logan finished, and Veronica let go of his hand, turning to smile at him, instead.   
  
    “Your name… your family,” Veronica shook her head, “won’t be mentioned in anything on our part, and I doubt that even in any kind of legal procedures Goodman would own up to it. I think you’re safe from him, after all this time; if that helps?” Unsure if it did, Veronica squeezed Jennifer’s hand, so glad to have met her, for so many reasons. “We have the proof we need of Goodman’s corruption, and Moorehead’s soliciting bribes,” Veronica was mostly sure about that, “we just didn’t understand what the bribes were for. If I figured out any other way of knowing what that money was for, I wouldn’t have bothered you. I know Mr. Clemmons was there, when you were a student, but he seemed genuinely ignorant of what happened to you, I’m sorry.”   
  
    Keith’s conversation with Clemmons hadn’t yielded any dividends, which is why Veronica elected herself to go to San Diego, and talk to Jennifer Morris, in the flesh. An act she didn’t regret, after doing it.   
  
    “The bribes were for keeping me a secret.” Jennifer still sat, stunned, out of reliving her trauma, at least, trying to understand what her world looked like since Veronica Mars knocked on her door.   
  
    “Thank you so much, for talking with us, it… It means more than you know.” Gone were Veronica’s tears, but she saved a soft smile of gratitude. “They’re both gonna pay, you know; for trying to cover up your story. I know it’s not the same as…” A proper investigation, or a public vindication, or even running Woody Goodman over with a fucking car, but Veronica sighed, “I just hope it helps, to know they’re not getting away with it. It helps me,” She offered, and after short goodbyes, and promises to keep in touch and give Jennifer updates, Veronica and Logan watched the Morris’ front door close behind them, and left.   
  
    “We did it,” Veronica whispered, still sitting in the magnitude of it. Logan cupped his hand to her face, smoothing leftover salt from her lashes, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips, before opening the passenger side door for her. “We got ‘em.”   
  
    “You got ‘em, V.” He leaned over the console kissing her, and then they had a long drive home, back to the inner city limits of Neptune and it’s scandal. Each in the car with a lump in the back of their throat, Logan took Veronica’s car slowly back to Neptune, taking his time holding her hand, and clearing their heads. They’d been gone for hours, and quiet in the car home, but when Veronica crawled into her bed, after a long, long day, she couldn’t help but want Logan there, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i understand this chapter's obscenely long, but i'd already split it into so many pieces i kept this whole chunk together. <3


	33. Let It Break Your Heart

     Sneaking into her own house, well past her bedtime, Veronica sorely regretted sending her dad only one 'be home soon!' text, hours before. She knew she should've told him how late she was going to be, but that would've entailed telling him where she, in fact, was... Fondly, she remembered their old house, with it's two floors, and thick walls, and multitude of windows to shimmy into. Turning the doorknob to her actual house, with a soft click of her key, Veronica was in, still holding her breath. Maybe she could sneak off to bed, get some sleep-

 

    Like in the movies, Keith flicked on the lamp light next to him, waiting for her in his chair. From the time she sent the text, and the time she was sneaking in...he'd been waiting awhile.

 

    "This is unacceptable, Veronica." Hands clenched in his lap, Keith sighed. If Lianne were there, Keith imagined she would've whisked Veronica away to bed, explaining how teen girls sometimes lost track of time, and wasn't high school supposed to be about creating memories? Memories with certain boys, late at night, Keith wasn't sure he wanted his daughter to be out making. He'd called Logan, when he was out of town and worried about her, but Keith hoped that didn't tell the teen he was all clear.

 

   "I know that, I really do, but just this once, maybe the ends justify the means." Veronica sprung into damage control; seeing her father's 2 am weariness as something she could exploit. Especially after everything in San Diego, Veronica was counting on her father to pardon his favorite daughter, even just this once. "I went to meet Jennifer Morris," She started, "And I knew you wouldn't let me go, and I also knew she would talk to me. I kidnapped Logan, we went right after school, and Dad, she really talked to me. A lot." Taking a breath, Veronica saw her father's eyes softening, at least to hear her out.

 

    "She was willing to give you details about her rape case?" Keith wasn't... letting a 2 am sneak-in slide; not by any means. His teenaged daughter needed to know that every time she left his sight his blood pressure heightened, and it went triple when he didn't know where she was. But he raised a smart kid, he raised a Mars, and the gleam in her eye told him to listen to her.

  
    "Mayor Goodman raped Jennifer Morris, in 1983; Jennifer tried to report it, Goodman was out of bounds, and Moorehead made sure it stayed that way." Enter blacked-out permanent file. "When Goodman and Moorehead ran into eachother six years ago,  Moorehead must've told Goodman he knew about Jennifer's baby being his, as a product of rape, and threatened to expose him, etc, if he didn't start paying hush money. Only, instead of paying his blackmail from his own pocket, where say... his wife, would wonder where money was disappearing to, he used school-allocated city funds, since Moorehead would be the only one who knew it was missing." Tucking herself into the couch, squeezing the blanket out from under Back Up, Veronica sighed, nearly satisfied with her work. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jenna Morris, though; about the family pictures in the Morris’ living room, and how Jenna had no idea who or what her father really was.   
  
    “Moorehead’s gonna haveta corroborate a lot of that, Veronica. Otherwise it’s only Jennifer Morris’ words against a high-profile, and well-liked mayor, honey.” Keith eyed his daughter, looking for what was amiss on her face. “Everything okay?”   
  
    Stirring Veronica from a deep thought, she smiled slowly. “Just tired.” Sinking into her spot on the couch, she knew the sun would be up soon. Another day closer to Moorehead’s retirement announcement, and another day he had to think he was going to get away with covering up a rape, to make money off the secret of it. “I just keep thinking about Jenna, you know?”   
  
    “Jenna Morris? She must be a little older than you; probably in college, maybe away somewhere.” Reaching a hand to pet Back-Up, Keith tried to answer as many of his own questions as he could, without disturbing Veronica. “What about her, though? She probably doesn’t know anything.”   
  
    Shaking her head quickly, Veronica agreed. “Jennifer said as much; once no one wanted to hear her story, she never told it. That’s why she wouldn’t talk to you; she wanted to protect her family, and it sounds like they’ve all had a relatively, quiet life since moving there. She said she met a nice man, who basically raised Jenna, and gave her a sister. He’s the only dad she knows.” Veronica looked to Keith, with a soft smile. Sitting across the kitchen table from the parallels in Jennifer Morris' story; her rape, the justice she was denied, Veronica was able to stay focused on old traumas. Home, Veronica couldn't shake the parallels she felt form between herself and Jenna Morris. The question of her own true parentage had been nagging at her. Jenna Morris was a girl close to her age, who didn’t know who her biological father was, and by all accounts someone who’d loved the man who raised her as his own.   
       
  
    “Veronica…”   
  
    “I love you, Dad.” Lifting the blanket off herself, Veronica had one more thing to come clean about; while she was confessing. “There’s something I should’ve shown you awhile ago.”   
  
   “Honey- what?”   
  
    “Wait.” Disappearing into her room, Veronica took a few books off her bookshelf, pulling the taped envelope from behind the rest. Turning it over in her hands, she took a deep breath; she’d never opened the _contract_ from the Kanes. There she was, pitying a stranger, a girl who didn’t know the entire truth about herself, when she hadn’t faced every plot twist in her own story. Veronica came back out to the living room, Clarence Weidman’s nearly forgotten envelope in her hands, and her dad’s face looking up, puzzled at her. “Clarence Weidman gave me this.” She explained, and put it in her dad’s hands.   
  
   “What is it?”   
  
    “According to him, some kind of _contract_ Mom signed with Jake and Celeste Kane, regarding… well…” Veronica shrugged. “Me?”   
  
    She’d never opened it; she’d tried not to consider what was in it. Being half-a-Kane didn’t interest Veronica. Their family had squashed hers, in every single possible way, and just because she hadn’t figured out the proper retaliation, the proper way to answer them, didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with them.   
  
    Keith fiddled with the envelope’s aluminum latch, trying to catch his breath on another series of surprises from the Kanes, and his daughter and estranged wife.   
  
    “I… assumed you didn’t know anything about it. After you said…” _That you knew I wasn’t actually your daughter,_ the words caught in Veronica’s throat; too emotional for an already-overemotional day. “That Mom never told you about…. The Kanes.” Veronica took a shaky breath, hitching her words over the envelope opening. “I don’t know what’s in there, either.” She kept talking, all through her dad’s stunned and weary silence.   
  
    Unveiling a packet of documents, Keith leaned into the light of the lamp, focusing his eyes through threatening tears.   
  
    “Honey,” Keith’s breath heaved, and he caught himself stifling a sniffle. Slowly, he passed the top page to Veronica, a lab report from a clinic; a notarized paternity chart.   
  
    Covering her own gasp with her hand, Veronica felt tears finally slip from her eyes.   
  
    “It’s true.” She said, voice breaking over the syllables; Jake Kane was her biological father, Duncan Kane her biological brother, and though Veronica mourned Lilly’s death like she’d been a sister, she actually had been. “I’m so sorry, Dad.” She whispered, without thinking.   
  
    Jake Kane, the Kane case, the Kane name- had stripped Sheriff Keith Mars of his sheriff’s title, his professional life had turned upside down over the Kanes. Veronica had unimpeachable proof in her hands, that Jake Kane also played a significant role in creating turbulence in Keith Mars personal life.   
  
     _Not to mention mine,_ Veronica let a sob escape from deep in her chest.   
  
    “Sweetheart, this is not at all something you have to apologize for.” Keith’s voice shook, “Not at all, okay, honey? I love you, more than anything, and…” Keith’s eyes hung up on the next page from the envelope. It _was_ a contract; his wife’s signature in ink, next to Jake and Celeste Kane’s.   
  
    “Dad?” Veronica’s hand hovered over the document still in her dad’s hands.   
  
    “You have a trust, Veronica. The Kanes agreed to pay your college tuition, look its…” Turning the page to her, Keith wasn’t sure what to think. There were conditions, of course; rules. Veronica couldn’t claim the Kane’s fortune outright, she could never bear the Kane’s name in public. Not that she would ever want to.   
  
    “This is what Mom signed?” Veronica sat, shocked. She took a deep breath.   
  
    “We don’t have to talk about this right now, honey. It’s… it’s more than I could give you, Veronica.” Keith smoothed a tear from his cheek, pulling his daughter into a hard hug.   
  
    Paid for tuition… Veronica still could barely react. “I gave Mom… _money_ , to check into a facility, when Logan and I found her in Arizona. She promised… she promised me that she’d stay, and she’d get better, and she’d try and she’d come home, but… she kept saying she left to protect me from the Kanes. She kept… _sounding_ like my mom.” Another deep breath, Veronica tried to keep herself from breaking down. Jake Kane had been instrumental in taking everything from her dad, and Veronica couldn’t think of the magnitude of something she could take from him to make him pay for that. But tuition for Stanford? Could be a start. Looking down at the page still in her dad’s hand, Veronica decided to stop crying. She just decided to stop. “What does it say they want.. From _me?_ ” She asked.   
  
    “Silence?” Keith guessed, trying to read between the lines. At no point, apparently, had there been a custody discussion. Veronica was going to be his, his daughter, always. He was relieved about that. “Mom promised the public would never know.”   
  
    “Mom makes a lot of promises.” Veronica leaned her forehead into her dad’s shoulder. The Kanes were done taking from them; she decided that, too.   
  
    “How _much_ money, Veronica?” Mind called back to what his daughter said- she’d paid for Lianne to get checked into a rehab facility in Arizona.   
  
    “Goodnight, Dad.” Kissing her dad’s cheek, Veronica got up, hearing her bed calling. The next days would be packed with action and information, she already knew what she had to do tomorrow.   
  
    “Veronica…”   
  
    “It was all cash, you’ll never trace the transaction. She didn’t ask me to,” Veronica stopped, just before the hallway, leaning against her dad’s chair, “she actually asked me not to. I think she really _did_ want to protect me,” she shrugged, “she just never got the hang of it, I guess.” Kissing her dad, again, Veronica let her anger with her mother slide back into it’s deep place in her chest. One day, maybe her mother would come home, and straighten up, and be her mother again, but Veronica was finished waiting for _one day_ to come.   
  
    After her best friend’s murder, her dad’s fall from public favor, after she was raped, and taunted, and after she’d walked in a world she barely recognized as hers, the only thing that kept surprising Veronica was how she still let herself be surprised by it. There were things about herself that she’d changed, that she’d evolved to survive, and those changes were a part of her, forever. Even when the school didn’t hate her completely, even when Logan was kissing her bare hip bone in his bed, not popping her car’s tires, even when she was really a Kane- Veronica nodded to herself that some things were irreparable. She herself, could survive anything, because she’d survived the worst and kept living.   
  
    “I love you, kiddo, you know that, right?” Keith squeezed her hand.   
  
    “It’s about the only thing I count on,” Veronica admitted. Her dad was there for her, she knew that. Sitting right outside, hoping he didn’t hear sobs. But Veronica’s a private mourner, so she  crawled into her bed, pulled the covers to her chin, and let silent tears fall until she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title borrowed from Paramore's "26"
> 
> i promise there are maybe 3 chapters left of this one and none of those will be this weepy. thanks!


	34. When The Chips Fall Where They May

   “It’s in the air supply around the offices, that Mr. Moorehead’s announcing his retirement today.” Wallace waited for Veronica’s reaction to that, and sat across from her at her lunch table. To him, she looked like she’d been up all night.    
  
    “Well, I have it on good authority that that won’t be the only news about Moorehead, today.” Eyes down on her lunch, Veronica’s eyebrows flared, but she kept her voice low. Her dad left early that morning for Lamb’s office, to brief him on the case, bring him up to speed, and convince him that the mayor and principal of their town needed to be arrested on corruption charges; on  _ fraud _ charges. Maybe Clemmons would be so happy he’d cancel finals, Veronica hoped, half-heartedly. She wasn’t sure if Clemmons felt  _ all _ the human emotions- she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him really even smile.    
  
    “Really? You think the basketball team’ll get it’s funding back?” Leaning in, Wallace tried  _ not _ to comprehend most of her after-school extracurriculars most of the time. Plausible deniability was a policy he lived by, and he was pretty sure he was alive because of it. She asked him for things, for favors, for files, for somebody to bounce her facts off of, but he still wasn’t sure how she kept everything straight. How she got to the bottom of everything.    
  
    “I think Clemmons’ is gonna see to that, yep; that, and the newspaper not getting defunded.” She smiled, remembering how she’d gotten into this case in the first place. Her fingers still ached from all that interning in the mayor’s office; life in Neptune, life in the private eye business, and then experience in the mayor’s office, all made Veronica swear off politics, probably forever. “I highly doubt that we’ll be getting a new auditorium, though; named after the mayor, or otherwise.” Veronica gave Wallace an exaggerated shrug, playing innocence, after everything.    
  
    “Well, maybe if he asks really nicely they’ll name a prison ward after him.” With a snicker, Wallace relaxed at Veronica’s smile. There were bad things in Neptune, and sometimes she got her hands dirty, he knew that; but as long as he’d known her, she’d bested everything she’d come up against. Everything that came up against her.    
  
    During fifth period, when she saw Lamb walk past her class, presumably to Moorehead’s office, Veronica kept smiling.    


* * *

  
  
    “Shh, shh, it’s on,” Veronica tapped Logan’s wrist, turning both their attentions back to her TV. Leaning against him on the couch, she’d switched to the local news nearly a half hour ago, waiting for Lamb’s promised press conference. When the anchorwoman excitedly introduced Lamb on camera, Veronica rolled her eyes, though. She was happy the truth would be out there, in the public sphere, but the messenger… she could’ve gladly shot.    
  
    Lamb’s faced grinned dopey in the faded tv colors, until he cleared his throat in front of a row of microphones, and introduced himself. “Many times during my tenure as Sheriff of Neptune, I’ve been asked to make difficult arrests, and yesterday afternoon, my office made two of our most difficult arrests yet. As of yesterday afternoon, both Mayor Goodman, and Neptune High School’s Principal Moorehead, have been arrested; charged with a myriad of crimes including fraud, criminal embezzlement, misappropriation of government funds, bribery, and other lesser crimes. At this time, both men are presumed innocent, until their trial, and we urge any witnesses with information to come forward to our offices. Thank you.” Shaking hands with the deputy mayor who would take over between elections, Lamb smiled into the camera again, posing like he was Miss America with less make-up and no crown.    
  
    “That’s a lot of criminal history to dig up. No rape charges.” Logan observed, and smoothed silky, blonde hair behind Veronica’s ear, watching her mouth go thin. Hearing her story shared with Jennifer Morris’ changed the way Logan loved Veronica; it changed the way he saw her. The way she chased people who did bad things to other people, made one million times more sense, once he got to understanding that the worst thing that ever happened to her went unanswered. Jennifer Morris had twenty years to put her past behind her, and Veronica had none of that time to deal, none of that time to cope or heal or even try to put it behind her. The short hair, the boots, even her beat up car, were ways she bit back at what people, including himself, had taken from her, little by little. The cases she took, the people she tried to help, that was another way.    
  
    “The statute is up.” Veronica leaned more of her weight against him, sorry that Goodman’s exposure came so late for his initial victims. “And this way, Jennifer and Jenna keep their privacy.” Veronica knew how to value that, after all her family had been through in the public spotlight. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Reaching for her backpack, Veronica rifled through and found her green folder. “Last math homework. No summer school for you, if I can help it.” With a wink, Veronica handed him the folder, and was surprised when he shook his head.    
  
    “I did the last one myself, handed it in on time and everything. Didn’t even kill me, I’m only slightly maimed.” Kissing her cheek, Logan exhaled a laugh. “Thank you, though, I’ll remember your helpfulness next time you want me to plant an audio transmitter in a public official’s office.” Eyeing the screen still, B-roll footage of Goodman’s lawyer talking legalese to news correspondents made him marvel at her a little harder.    
  
    “What  _ do _ you think of this deputy mayor? Kinda shifty, right? Should we check out his offices?” Giggling, she tucked herself back into his side on the couch, lifting his arm to drape over her neck. Mostly kidding, Veronica put it in her day-planner to try and avoid major political scandal cases- at least for over the summer.  _ Girl’s gotta get a break, right? _ _   
_


	35. Supergirl's Day Off

    The last bell of the last school day rang, and Veronica’s breath came easier to hear it. Until the crackle of the pa-system made her pause cleaning out her locker, her spidey senses tingling.  
  
    “Veronica Mars, please come to the office before your dismissal, thank you. All other students, please enjoy your summer,” Came the message over the loudspeaker, and Veronica groaned.  
  
    “I’m changing your name,” Logan greeted her with a smirk, leaning against her locker, thinking hard on a new identity for her. “You’re now….”  
  
    “If you say, _Nancy Drew_ -”  
  
    Hands up in surrender, Logan shook his head. “Nancy Drew’s played out I was thinking maybe, Supergirl?” Linking his fingers around her waist, he followed her to the principal’s office, pointedly ignoring Duncan passing them in the hallway. Nearly every other summer they’d spent mostly together; eating barbecued steak in Duncan’s backyard or lounging in Logan’s pool. Even if Logan wanted to feel nostalgic, he didn’t. "Blonde. Super-powered. Probably had a cute boyfriend." Logan swallowed his crack about how at least Supergirl probably gave herself days off, once in awhile.  
  
    “Hmm, I’ll think about it. I _have_ been needing a name a little more cohesive with my cape.” Flicking an imaginary cape behind herself, Veronica kissed the corner of his mouth, feeling a summer-anticipatory-itch hitting her in the worst way. “Clemmons calls,” She nodded into the office, seeing the door open, and waved Logan off.  
  
    “You wanted to see me, Mr. _Principal_ , sir?” Veronica knocked twice, Clemmons had his back to the door until she did.  
  
    Shaking his head in an almost-reprimand, Clemmons couldn’t hide a microscopic, barely-there smile. “Ms. Mars; your father investigated on behalf of Neptune High School’s Administrative Staff, and I just wanted to pay you for Mars’ Investigations’ services.” Holding out a thin envelope, where Veronica suspected a check, Clemmons also went to shake her hand. “Not only your services, but your discretion, and integrity.”  
  
   Veronica blinked, smiling back just a little, too. Taking the envelope, she nodded. “It’s gonna be a long trial, you know?” She tried to warn him; justice could be slow, especially for a case within the whirl of public interest like this one would be.  
  
    “The courts have your evidence, though. It’ll take time, but…” The new principal nodded, smiling a little bigger. His promotion had been imminent, with Moorehead retiring; but starting a new school year after the summer would have him start fresh, for the first time without Alan Moorehead.  
  
     “Have a good summer, Mr. Clemmons.”  
  
    “Maybe for your senior year we could have zero scandals in these halls, Ms. Mars?” Despite his good mood, Clemmons didn’t sound all that hopeful to Veronica; but when did he ever?  
  
    “ _These_ halls? Probably not, Mr. C.” Saluting her goodbye, Veronica pocketed the check and made her exit from Neptune High; _one year left._ The countdown to high school’s inevitable end began, and the clock started ticking as soon as she drove out of the parking lot.  


* * *

  
  
     With an excited hoot, Wallace saw her headlights drive up alongside the beach at night. “I didn’t think you’d come, Supafly,” he laughed, clearing a space for her on the log he was sitting.  
  
    They were all juniors, not quite a graduation party, but a small end-of-year _gathering_ organically developed on the beach, with kids sitting around bonfires and kegs. Wallace sat around the fire, just waiting for Veronica to sidle over and steal one of his fresh gooey-smores-masterpieces.  
  
    “Hey, I just called in a favor and asked her to meet me at the beach.” Weevil shrugged, grin on his face and beer in his hand, and tried to remain adamant that he wasn’t having fun at this little _gathering_. Luring her out into a good time was a favor she could owe him for some other time, and maybe a _thank-you_ for helping get Lamb off his case. It was a cheesy scene, Weevil wasn't going to start grabbing for people's hands and lead the first Kumbaya verse, but he hung out for a little while. If only for the beer on the rich, white kids' dime.  
  
    Taking a soda from Logan’s hand, Veronica rolled her eyes as a greeting to all of them.  
  
    “My social life’s plenty exciting without all of you, you know,” Veronica pointed out, to a fresh round of laughs. Shaking her head, Veronica tried not to hold their teasing against them. Once, she'd had no one, and she hadn't needed them- not  _really._ But her life looked radically different than a year ago, and she couldn't be disappointed with that.  
  
    “Cheating spouses and embezzling politicians _still_ don’t count as a social life, V.” Weevil laughed, wondering how she still hadn’t gotten that memo.  
  
    Running his fingers through her hair, Logan tried to manage a disapproving look at Wallace and Weevil, that Veronica was not to be teased into leaving, that she was going to have a smore, maybe a drink, and sit down and have a good time like every other teenager not preoccupied with Neptune’s criminal element. That for once, he was going to make her forget all the bad stuff and overwhelm her with the good.  
  
    “Walk with me,” Veronica pulled his hand instead, leading him away from the fire and the crowd, along the beach. Waves lapping gently at the land, Veronica closed her eyes in the night breeze, wondering if the whole summer would be like this. Looking back at Weevil blending in with 09-ers, and Wallace making smores, Veronica ruled that wondering a hard no. And decided to enjoy the moment.  
  
    Tugging Logan into a long kiss, Veronica could taste the beer on his tongue already, and shook her head laughing. “You taste gross,” She teased, feeling his arms wrap around her, steadying her against the cool breeze.  
  
    “Ow ow _ooowwww_ ,” Dick howled at them from the mass down the beach, making Veronica pull back from Logan’s kiss to shake her head.  
  
    “You taste wonderful,” Logan ignored Dick, teasing her instead, in a different way. He knew it was too much to hope for, a quiet summer with everything like this. Settled, and fun, and just a little drunk, with his barefeet in sand and his hands on her.   
  
     Kissing him again, Veronica didn't mind the taste this time, feeling his teeth graze her bottom lip, gently.  
  
    _Maybe_ she’d get to enjoy a lot of moments this summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i totally totally totally realize that this last bit is completely a self-indulgent move, unsupported by actual canon text (group bonfire on the beach? happy LoVe getting a moment? never ever ever) but it felt so good i hadda leave it. i can't believe this one's finally done, and thank you thank you to everyone who commented, liked, followed this story i appreciate it so much and it's honestly what kept me finishing this one when it got a little too Out There even for me. thank you!!


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